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emokpopgal · 4 years ago

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Entanglement - PART 1

Yandere! Ghost! Kyungsoo (D.O.) x Fem! Reader

Warning/s: Mention of suicide, violence, and guilt-tripping. Read at your own risk...

Part 1

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Empty.

It's all what Kyungsoo can describe the world before him. He weakly stands on his bathroom floors, eyes staring at his reflection in the mirror. His swollen eyes have developed bags underneath his eyelids accompanied by his build that obviously decreased in weight. He hadn't eaten properly ever since she left. He hadn't felt alive too

. What he only feels are the turmoil of sadness, guilt, and betrayal inside him. These feelings are what weighs heavily on his chest and he had cried so much that no more tears made its way out of his eyes; it's like he has evolved to be numbed to the effects. He feels like an empty husk of his former self. It's all my fault. He says to himself. He felt like he was the one to blame in putting such a relationship to waste. The 10 years of memories and hardships, gone. Their marriage, forgotten. If only he had changed sooner. But he couldn't figure out why. He did give her everything— a roof over her head, his undying love, and a lavish lifestyle. What more could she want? All he wanted was for her to stay, but how could she betray him like this? She promised him that she will stay by his side for all eternity and this was evidenced by her accepting the ring at the time of his proposal. He also promised to change his ways, and he did. But she still left. It has been a week since she abandoned him and the memory continues to play on his head like a broken record. "I want to break up." "What...?" "I said I want to break up, Kyungsoo. I can't handle this anymore!" "Jagi," Kyungsoo he says to her. He attempts to grab her hands in which she immediately swats away. "Is there something I did again? surely we can sort this out—" " I don't think I would want to sort this out again, Soo." "And why is that?" He questions. "I want to END this..." Y/N answers. He couldn't believe what she was saying. Is she really trying to do this now? He thought. "End... " He repeats, inquisitively. "A-are you serious?" Y/N, in response, just lowers her head and diverts her gaze on the floor. She's not the type to joke around on these type of situations. Her silence is enough to send him the sign that she is indeed serious on what she's saying. Anger is slowly building up to him. He can't fathom her intentions on abandoning a long term relationship and the marriage that is drawing near. "END?!" He shouts. "What is this bullshit, Y/N?! You want to END all we've been through?" He then plunges his fist into the wall, leaving light cracks on its surface. He's slowly loosing himself and is beginning to give in to the intensity of his emotions. Y/N flinches from the noise. His manner of speaking is starting to frighten her, but she promised herself that she won't back down. Even in the midst of fear, she forced open her mouth. "I-I don't care anymore, Soo! I don't want the marriage, and I...I—!!!" "YOU what Y/N?!" He threatens. "You don't wanna be with me anymore?" "Yes, Soo. And this is not—" "Oh please!" He interjects, kicking the furniture next to him. "This again?! Oh come on Y/N, you're really breaking it off when IT'S 6 MONTHS BEFORE OUR WEDDING?!" He's doing it again. Instead of reasoning out, he reverts to guilt-tripping. It's all because he's blinded by the emerging feelings inside of him and the rising fear of her leaving. He can't stop, he doesn't know how to and this is the only thing he knows on how to respond to these kind of situations. Deep inside, he wants her to take back all what she's saying. Anger is his weapon, but this time it wont affect her as much. "FUCKING YES, I AM!!!" She finally snaps, angered by his reaction and childish choice of actions.Now, she's using the same tricks as his. "Why? 'Cause you don't love me anymore? You don't LOVE me, who gave you everything for the past 10 fuckin' years?!" Yes, keep going. Tell her everything you did and throw it in her face, she is nothing without you. Let's see if she still has the guts to leave... "You really want me to answer that, Soo?" Y/N challenges him. "FINE!" Kyungsoo's eyes widens, fearing the possibilities of what she might say. "Soo, I can't love you anymore, you kept on HITTING me. And for the past 10 god-forsaken years, you still haven't learned to control your goddamn jealousy! I've endured all of this, because I LOVED you! But now I just can't take this anymore!" It's true. All of this is true. But he just simply cannot control himself, and again, he doesn't know how. And he just loves her too much to the point that he must do things in order to make her stay, even if it means that she will answer to his hands. But he changed didn't he? He even got some help like she always asked him to do. Was that not enough for her? "B-But I've changed Y/N!" He says, with tears starting to form around his eyes. "Tell me... When's the last time? It was like, months ago remember?" She remained quiet again, this time staring at him with mixture of sadness and contempt in her expression. "...Remember?" "Soo..." She says. "After the last time, my love for you started to fade away..." It puzzles him even more. What does she mean it started to fade away? Was he living with the mirage of her loving him all this time? "What?" He says. This is now his breaking point."What do you mean...?" "I don't love you as much anymore." She bluntly replies. "I thought I would love you again after you proposed. But I did not, especially the time you did it again..." Reminiscing those painful memories brought tears to Y/N as well. She can remember the pain of his broken promise that he will change for the better. The pain of his fists landing to her body and his insults towards her left a mark that she definitely won't forget. Then it hit him. The words that came from Y/N became a knife that pierced through his chest that sliced and cut his heart into a million pieces. He felt his body go numb as his tears made its way out if his eyes, trailing down his face. This can't be true — she couldn't possibly mean what she says, right? They have fought like this before and still managed to be together. Surely this will all pass and she will come back again. Or so he thought. "Y/N, y-you can't possibly m-mean that, r-right?" Kyungsoo pleads in between his sobs. "Please t-tell me you don't mean that!" "I meant what I said." Y/N hisses out. She rolls of the sleeves of her blouse, revealing her arms filled scars and cuts that came from Kyungsoo's beating. "All of this was from you, Soo! And I think this is alone is enough for me to end this." She covers her arms again and fixes the sleeves of her blouse. She takes an item from her purse, and brings it in front of Kyungsoo's face. The item was their engagement ring. It's silver luster and reflectious diamond stone mimic the light of the sunset rays coming from the window. "We're through." She says, then she proceeds to throw the ring across the room. The ring bounces off of the opposite wall and falls in the red, mahogany floors of Kyungsoo's house. It's impact on the floor emits a sharp tinging sound. He didn't attempt to look at where the ring has landed off to for he was still frozen of the events happening before him. She then takes one last glance at Kyungsoo, with the sharpest gaze she could muster. "This talk is done, goodbye Doh Kyungsoo. Don't contact me ever again." Y/N turns around and walks towards the door, but before she can reach the handle, Kyungsoo reaches to her, wrapping his arms on her waist with his face resting on her shoulder. She could feel his tears dampening her shirt. Why is she feeling bad? "Please," He says, sobbing. "P-please don't leave me! I will make things right, I'm sorry! I know I can't control myself sometimes but I swear I'll work on myself! Just don't—" Y/N sees the hysteric state the he's in. She is starting to feel guilty about what she is currently doing, but it has been decided that she would leave their toxic relationship. What is the essence of lavish living if she would just constantly live under his fists everyday? It's time that she should think about her own wellbeing rather than their both. She tries pry off his hold to her, but he won't budge. He is stronger than he looks. "Kyungsoo please..." She pleads as she squirms in his arms. "It's going to be the same again! Just let me go." He then lets go of her. It became clear to him that she no longer wants to do anything with him. He watches her make her way outside his house as she slams the door in front of him. Y/N is his whole world, and always will be. She was his savior from his own darkness, but the down side to that is, in certain times she takes all of it. The outcome of this is their frequent fights, leaves Y/N as always the loser, evidenced by the painful marks left on her skin. He did gave her everything, as he said. But...She still chose to leave Going back to reality, he stares at the object sitting at his sink. He's been contemplating of doing it, since he lost everything the day he lost her. However, he sets this plan aside for the moment, because he is yet to bring her back to him. He'll even beg in his knees if he has to. ----- SM Telecoms is the company that Y/N works for. On the foot of the building is a café, where he and Y/N would usually meet. This is where he often picks her up— he even knows her favorites from their menu. The café's exterior was made up of windows huge enough to see it inside, which is usually filled with customers from or outside the company. This is Y/N's hang out place after her work hours. Kyungsoo's car was parked parallel to the café, granting him a clear view of the place, even when he's on the other side of the road. He patiently anticipates the time she goes to the café. After a few hours of waiting, he spots her on the building's lobby, with her peers around her, seemingly chatting about some stuff he doesn't care about. She looks so normal, as if nothing has happened to her. He makes his way outside his car and crosses the road to meet her, which in turn just ends up him standing outside the building's entrance. There he can see her better, as she and her friends enter the café on the entrance on the building's lobby. He decides to observe them some more before barging in. Two of her female friends went to get their orders while she and a particular male friend sits on a spot together. They are sitting in the same side and appears to be chatting. Y/N seems to be enjoying it as she laughs along with him. She doesn't laugh like that around me... He thought. He took one step towards the entrance, then stopped again to take another glance at her. She looks so happy with them. This made him hesitant to continue on his intentions because he also thought that it would do nothing. It's pointless coming in here... I should just leave her alone. That's what she wants. It might be his excessive jealousy, but seeing her with another guy sent an overbearing amount of anger and hurt in his nerves. He can't continue on his plan anymore, for it appears that she had found someone else to lean on, therefore there is no point of him pursuing her. He confirmed it— she doesn't love him. He went back to his car, and drove away with such speed. The car ride back to his house was absolute hell -- he drove carrying the feeling of heartbreak and loneliness with small tears clouding his vision. He almost got caught for over speeding and even thought of crashing it to the traffic in front of him. He blames himself, yet he's pins all of this at her. He loves her, yet he loathes her. Days have passed, but he still feels the same. He even sent her hundreds of messages and missed calls, to which she didn't even bother to answer. His mind is slowly succumbing into madness. He abandoned everything — his family, his work, and his life is coming next. His family and coworkers are wondering where he is, because he's not even responding to their messages. He's closed himself off to everyone. He thinks that there is no more point in living, especially if she's not in there. The one who gave him purpose has thrown him away. Everything reminds him of her, and it's driving him insane. He wants her so bad but he can't have her anymore. All of his irrational thinking is clouding the clarity of his judgements and its spiraling him out of control. Drowning within the emotion of anger, sadness, and betrayal, he grabs the object that has been waiting for him for so long. His handgun. He begins loading it, and switches it off to safety. He takes one final breath, and then proceeds to point it on his head. The index finger of the hand that holds the gun brushes on its trigger, and in a split second. He fires. He brought his insanity in his grave. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Local Man commits suicide — Cause unknown; no letter found. Calling...

Mrs. Doh "Y/N! Y/N!!!" The voice calls to her in the midst of crying. "My dear Soo! *sob* H-He's gone! My S-s-soo's gone!!!" Y/N can only stare at the tv, wide eyed, with regret slowly creeping up to her. It's all my fault.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Love is like wine as many would say; the longer it gets, the sweeter it tastes. But in the case of Y/n and Kyungsoo's relationship, the 'wine' in their 10 year relationship has grown moldy that it leaves a very strong, unpleasant taste. This only signifies that the love that binds them together has not been nurtured well, therefore creating a very sickening and pungent flavor. A flavor that only Y/N tastes between the two of them. In the beginning, she thought that he was the one. Others would say that she is lucky in having him in her life— very hardworking, mature, and has a future planned ahead of him. Y/N, on the other hand, compliments him. She is known to be steadfast yet loving and soft; a kind that every man needs. If one were to only view the tip of the iceberg, their relationship would be described as a "dream" relationship. But plunging further to its depths is where things goes in a much darker turn. Their relationship became toxic as she began to feel trapped under his spell. It's very suffocating, knowing that someone is slowly gaining control of your life. For her sake, she decided to end it all. But where did it land her? Did she get any satisfaction from what she's done? The sky is painted gray as countless of droplets plunge into the earth from the skies. It seems to mourn with them for the loss of their beloved Soo. People dressed in black has their tears mixed with rain as their wails adds to the sound of thunder that ravages the clouds. She stands in front of him, yet she couldn't take a look on where he's at. She's at pain too, and its because of the mixture of sorrow and guilt that she feels. She does cherish a handful of good memories with him, and she did love him nonethless. But she never expected that he would go like this. She also knows herself that she has something to do with this "Y/N," his mother calls to her. "I think this belongs to you. We found this at his house... I think you'll need this." In his mother's hand was a shiny, silver ring decorated with a big diamond gem — their engagement ring. It still shines despite the gloomy weather. She doesn't know why, but something's compelling her to not take the ring. It radiates a certain negative force, causing her fear that screams in the back of her psyche. She's afraid of the item, because it reminds her of him. Noticing that Y/N was not taking the ring, she grabs her left hand and proceeds to insert the ring on Y/N's ring finger. "Please don't loose this," she says to her. "This is the only thing that binds you to him..." They say that emotions get left behind on certain places or items. An example of this is the feeling of happiness, or nostalgia, upon seeing an item or a place that has made a special connection to you. This is also like looking at a photo, wherein as you look into the pictured world presented before you, you either feel the sensation of joy, longing, sadness, or any emotion you think attributed to the picture. This is the case for the ring he left for her. The memory of betrayal and anger has marked the object, thus Y/N sees this as something dreadful. These certain emotions harnesses energy emitted by the mind, thus attracts certain entities or beings beyond human comprehension. However, If these emotions are strong and lingered long enough, the entity it attracted will find it difficult to leave, because it has already made a strong connection to the emotions. What she thought she has left can never and WILL NEVER leave her at this point. The ring was still in her hand as she made her way back into her own home. Night came and enveloped her room in moderate darkness, with the moonlight shining on her. Her eyes can barely figure anything in the dark, yet it is still open. The longer she sees the ring, the more powerful the guilt grows inside of her, eating away what's left of her sanity. She is alone in her current house with no housemates or relatives to keep her company. She closes her eyes, yet she can still see his tear-stained face, begging for her. Finally, she delves into sleep but unbeknownst her, a pair of watchful eyes observe her in the darkness. It feeds off her strong emotions that is caused by the memories that haunts the ring. He promised to take her back, and he will. Even if he's in the afterlife.

A/N: I finally did it! My first post!!! More coming soon though, please be patient with me. Also, I do apologize if I took too long, did a lot of last-minute changes. Feel free to DM me to help me improve my work. Criticism is accepted, just as long as you are nice about it. See you again on the next part! ^____^

#exo #exo k #yandere #kyungsoo #yandere exo #yandere kpop #yanderekpop #kpop #baekhyun #kai #chen #sehun #chanyeol #suho #yixing #xiumin #yandere nct #nct

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lokidrabbles · 5 years ago

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Sweet-Scented Alien (Loki x Reader)

Loki has another difficult night and the reader takes care of him

A/N: Another Loki has really bad nightmares one shot! I know I kinda go all over the place with this one, but I tend to have a lot of ideas for Loki’s POV. However, I hope you all can enjoy! As always, Gender Neutral Reader!

Warnings: Suggested smut, but not really

The same nightmare continued to torment the Asgardian prince. The destruction of Asgard, the loss of his parents, and the Titan’s enormous grasp around his neck would resume like a broken record until a morbid snap in his neck would shove him awake into the real world.

He gasped for air as his body jolted him awake, frozen in place while his mind still processed the tangibility of his surroundings. He would instinctively reach to feel the back of his neck, an effort to make sure it still remained in tact. He still remained in one piece, and he considered himself unworthy of his blessings.

The mad Titan still lingered somewhere out there, in search of Loki, in search of unimaginable power. Loki had the fortune of being able to stay out of the Titan’s radar for this long, but the possibility still remained. He was out there, and Loki hid himself away like a coward, here with you, exposing you to the unimaginable danger.

Tonight’s was especially vivid, and he couldn’t imagine such a brutal way to be permanently discarded of. He quickly dug his nails into his forearm, making his pain evident for him to fully bring himself in focus. He attempted to stabilize his breathing, but his efforts remained futile for now. He avoided wanted to wake you up, but you were always sensitive about these things, and as if on cue, he felt you shift and slowly turn towards him.

“Hey, Loki. What’s wrong?” He heard you say softly.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine.” He responded hastily, but only to still catch his breath.

“You’re shaking. Did you have another bad dream?” He sensed your concern grow, feeling you sit upwards against the backboard of your bed.

It was difficult to admit he did. Not only did he detest seeing you worry about his well being, as that was his obligation to you, but he detested how vulnerable he appeared in front of you. He’d dread at the possibility of being perceived as weak, someone incapable of protecting you, all because of a dream.

“Please, I don’t need you to hold my hand constantly over this.” He responded, intending for it to come out as disconnected as he could.

“Loki, you’re literally shaking.” You said as a matter of fact. Loki soon felt the touch of your palm over his cheek, relishing in the warmness you provided. “You’re freezing too.”

Adrenaline rushed through him at the though of his body temperature dropping dramatically. You weren’t jesting about something this, and he knew his mental and emotional vulnerability must have triggered some part of his frost giant biology to act defensively. He needed to gain control ASAP, before something worse appeared.

“Err, I think I should just rest somewhere else, just so I won’t continue waking you up anymore. Perhaps, that couch in your living room?”

“What? Loki, don’t be stupid. I want you to stay here with me, especially if you had another nightmare like that.” You said while tugging at his forearm, seemingly disregarding his unusual coldness.

You were a fool, but his heart fluttered at your clinging. “Very well. However, I am a little apprehensive about resting. I honestly will stay up for the remainder of the evening.”

“Guess I’m staying up with you too.”

“You really mustn't stay up. You don’t enough rest for your human body as it is, no matter how much I lecture you about it.”

He could see you roll your eyes within the darkness. “You have to let me take care of you Loki, that’s part of the deal we had.”

“I don’t need to be taken care of.”

“Uh-huh.”

Loki felt the covers flying off of you as you rose up from your bed, padding gently across your floor. You made your way into your bathroom, flicking the lights on and beginning to rummage through your belongings.

Loki squinted at the sudden brightness, peering off the side to catch a glimpse at whatever you were doing. “(Y/N). You must come rest.”

“I will.” You exclaimed from afar. “But I got something for you first.”

Damn. “Stop with the foolishness. I told you I’m fine.”

You didn’t respond, and Loki could only hear you still rummaging. He focused his hearing to catch anything pertinent, before he would justly stomp into that bathroom, pick you up, and toss you back into bed. This was his own issue to deal with after all and he still cringed at the idea of having this mortal, this human, willingly tend to him.

His ears perked at the sound of a squeaking hinge, and then of running water. Oh no.

You slowly stepped out, your pajama sleeves rolled at the way up to your elbows. Your hair was still a mess, and the circles under your eyes suggested you definitely had not gotten enough sleep this night. But still you stood there, and even in your most dullest appearance, Loki still thought you were lovely.

“Okay, start getting naked.” You said through a yawn.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m drawing you a warm bath dummy. You’re sticky, and maybe you can relax more if your body warmed up too.”

The act of kindness was too sickening for him. Loki was a frost giant, and although he always maintained good homeostasis over his own biological temperature, he would always be naturally a bit colder than most aesir or humans. It wasn’t something to be saddened about, it was simply how he was. And yet, with your best efforts, you still desired to provide him with relief, even if it probably wouldn’t have any effect on him at all. It was all charming, and Loki had grown very unused to having someone mend his perceived suffering. Again, he felt his heart flutter at the notion.

“You cannot be serious.” He said flatly, a small piece of him hoping you’d still pester him about it.

“Come one, you’ll feel much better. And then after, I promise I’ll go back to sleep, deal?”

“Hmm. You strike up a difficult bargain, human. But very well, if it will get you off my back and get you some rest.”

You provided Loki with two thumbs up, sealing the verbal agreement. Loki groaned, pushing himself off the bed and beginning to discard his clothes. From the corner of his eye, he could see you leaning on the doorway into your bathroom, blatantly ogling at him and his bare body. Not that Loki really minded. In fact, he felt some sense of pride at how easily you’d become distracted at his nude form. Which of course meant you wouldn’t have eyes for anyone else.

“You’re staring.” He said teasingly.

“Guilty as charged. Now come on, before I start getting any more ideas.”

Loki trudged behind you into your bathroom, a heavy scent filling his nostrils immediately. It was sweet and nutty, and he immediately identified this scent as your own. There would be days, special occasions, where you would bathe in this sweet almond scent. He thought it was purposeful, for he would be unable to keep his hands off of you, rejoicing in the intoxicating smell gently coming from your hair and skin.

“You’re not getting nude as well?” He asked disappointingly.

“Good idea. But my tub is too small, and it wouldn’t be as fun as you’d imagine.” You reached over to grab his wrist, coaxing him towards your tub.

Steam began to tickle at his nose, and he raised a questioning eyebrow at the ridiculous amount of soap and foam rising. “This wasn’t necessary.”

“Sure it was, go ahead and dip in.”

He sighed, knowing he had to oblige in fear that you would become upset at him. He carefully took one step in, shivering at the sudden exposure to the searing temperature. The heat would soon cool off as soon as he’d emerge his entire body in, but of course you didn’t realize that would happen. Nevertheless, he slowly submerged himself (or as much as he could), enjoying the brief heat that engulfed his skin. He inhaled and let out a deep breath, sinking his hair into the bubbly water. The almond scent now fully took over his entire sense of smell, and he closed his eyes. He imagined this heat as your own, this smell as your own, covering him entirely.

You had perched beside him and your tub, seemingly not minding the water that had splashed over. You dipped a finger in, as if making sure the temperature was adequate enough for him. Another yawn escaped your mouth while doing so and Loki immediately took notice.

“You’re exhausted and you’re making it very obvious. Now, this was your own doing. I don’t want to be blamed for this in the morning.”

You waved your hand to dismiss his comment. “That’s not what’s important right now. How are you feeling?”

“A tad ridiculous with my knees protruding out like so. But yes, the water is quite nice.”

As sleepy as you were, he saw you beam with joy. “Good to hear. I’m hoping this means you’ll be more open to my methods here.”

“I’m only doing this so you’ll stop worrying and go back to bed.” Part of it was true, and the other part mostly involved still wanting to appease you.

“Oh stop it.” You said, playfully splashing some water at him. “Let me do this for you, it’s the least I could do after all you’ve done for me.”

That last part was hard to fully accept. Truly, he didn’t think he’d done much for you. Or at least, he interpreted it much differently than you did. He knew humans were very meticulous in their way of expressing love and care, and while he was no stranger to it, he was rusty about it. The closest thing that popped in his head was that time he carried you back home after you had gotten inebriated, but he was certain you didn’t want to hear about that again.

“You’ll have to forgive me, but that’s a bit of a stretch for my liking.” He said, dipping his head backwards into the water.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m just not sure if what you say is true. I can easily go inside your mind and find out for myself. But even so, I doubt I’d believe that.”

“Believe what, that you haven’t done anything for me?” You asked incredulously.

“I suppose that’s the curse I carry. You know, still being apprehensive about all of this.” He knew it sounded harsh, to even question his relationship with you, but a big function of this relationship was his honesty with you. He knew you wouldn’t cast him away with these words, but there was a speck inside of him that would be terrified of the notion.

He saw your lips twist disapprovingly, and then you shoved a chunk of bubbles right into his face. “You know, for being insanely intelligent, you can be pretty damn stupid too.”

His brows furrowed, shoving away the soapy residue from his face. “Not exactly what I expected to hear.”

“Loki, I’d like to safely think that us sleeping together, having sex, sharing meals, dealing with our worst attitudes on a daily basis, and screwing around with Tony Stark should at least suggest something to you.” You said aggressively. “You think I’d just let anyone call me a stupid human with no discernible reason.”

He opened his mouth temporarily to spew out an argument, but promptly sealed his lips once he noticed how irked you had become. He often enjoyed irking you about several things, but this wasn’t the best way to go at it. He could tell from your approach and body language that you were dead serious about it, and he genuinely wanted to believe that.

“You really need to get it through your head that you matter to me, like a lot.” You continued, standing up and reaching over to grab one of your towels. “I really don’t know how else to say it so you can fully understand.”

“Perhaps, there is something you could do. You know, just so I can understand better.” He said lowly, almost muttering it.

“Oh, and what exactly is that?”

“I’m going to need you to come closer. Come kneel beside me.” He said, his voice low and sultry.

A smirk appeared on your face, following his words and perching next to him and beside your tub again. He lifted his upper body, lather and water spilling all across his chest and arms and leaned into your lips. He heard a quick ‘oh’ escape from you, satisfied at how quickly you had responded to his actions. In one swift move, Loki grabbed your forearm, and yanked you into towards him. You cursed and fell face forward into him and into the now lukewarm water, splashing and making a terrible mess of all things. Loki saw how your legs flailed comically and couldn’t hold back the irresistible grin decorating his cheeks. You must have flopped around for a good minute or so until you managed to hold yourself up by your arms, hair and clothes absolutely drenched.

“Ehehehe.” He sniggered, loving the absolute look of indignation you shot at him.

“God, why do you have to be such a dick?” You muttered, along with some other offensive words.

“That’s it. That’s all I needed, I fully understand now. Thank you so much for that spectacle (Y/N). I believe I can say with confidence that I truly enjoy being with you as well.”

“You’re such a little shit, oh my god.” You lunged at him, making your best attempts to push his head underwater. “Why are you always making me fall for stupid shit?”

“Darling, please!” He exclaimed, grin still very present. “Please don’t end me in such a way. Not at least till you get rid of those soaked garments first.”

“No fucking way-”

“Ah, fucking? You’ve read my mind indeed. Well, if you are suggesting it.”

You groaned loudly, standing up, hair and clothes dripping wet. You stomped out in a fury, muttering things along the way which Loki could only catch as another clear ‘fuck you.’

He followed suit and rose from the water, tip toeing behind you while soap suds still fell from his bare body. The nightmare from earlier that evening would soon be long forgotten, and although Loki’s attempts at getting down and dirty with you wouldn’t be successful, there was something much more important at hand, something he’d fully come to realize with his little prank.

#loki #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki laufeyson #loki (mcu)#loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki drabbles #loki odinson

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akimmito · 5 years ago

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Heroes are made by the path they choose

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Master List

Chapter 18

Marinette was waiting for the moment when the Gotham vigilantes would show up, they ended up making the decision after she and Felix had a little chat with Silent Hill, she even spoke to John to ask what he knew about the two of them (of course, they had already met Robin, but their meeting was under other circumstances). John was very clear about his opinions, so she was able to have a better point of view when deciding.

They, sadly, would be the first to be recruited knowing the entire team. Unlike other members, they were recruited by two or three incumbents of the miraculous. The Aurore case, which was recommended by Chloe, Marc and Nathaniel; Silent Hill was recruited by her, Felix, and Max; Not in Hell was brought into the organization by Marc and Nathaniel (with approval from Alix and Luka). The others were led by other circumstances, such as John (who was led by her alone), Adrien (who only retired from the team due to circumstances that were out of his control), Jean (Chloe's butler ended up involved after it was done difficult to explain strange behaviors, becoming a great ally), Kim (he was initially recruited to be part of the team, but ended up only an affiliate) and Gina (how could she not realize that her granddaughter was the one who made contact with her? Maybe he couldn't discover her as Ladybug by magic, but there was nothing of the kind involved here anymore. It was easy).

So yes, Nightwing and Robin will be their first victims. The only one who completely opposed the idea was Damian, but she couldn't get any information out of him. Until minutes before meeting them.

"My father is Batman."

Marinette stayed still in those moments, but her son kept moving forward. She saw him draw one of his swords, but she was still processing his words. However, she slides it down and makes sure she doesn't forget to talk to him later. She can't go crazy in those moments.

Damian doesn't know who possessed him to say it in those moments, his mother had been asking the night before when they were alone, but he refused to say a word. And minutes, seconds, before meeting his brothers, it was not the right time. Well, the damage is done.

"You're not welcome." He's not feeling satisfaction in threatening his brothers, not at all, it's simply to maintain an image and let them know that they will not accept his games. It's just that.

Afterward, he just kept watching, watching the interaction, focusing his attention on Nightwing, who keeps his gaze fixed on his mother. He frowns, it doesn't matter if it's inside or outside the mask, Richard Grayson keeps looking at his mother; doesn't like. But his mother wouldn't notice him, would she?

No she wouldn't. She doesn't even give him a glance, she's more focused on Robin, so no, and his mother wouldn't notice Grayson. Even so, he must mark territory, he doesn't want one of his brothers as a father, although them is better than his father. No, he cannot submit to such thoughts, the man who marries his mother must be worthy of it.

When they go through the portal, the little glamor placed on him fades and he heads to the common room, where the others must be.

Marinette watches him leave, curious about her son's visible bad mood.

"Make yourself comfortable." She smiles kindly, in stark contrast to the intimidating image she was giving earlier.

"Suzaku…" She directs her gaze towards Robin, she finds it amusing that the youngest is the one who takes the reins because the responsible adult seems too lost watching her. Oh yeah, she realized, it's not subtle at all.

"Yes?"

"You mentioned that they already knew about us, how did they find out?"

"We have a contact." She doesn't remove her smile and proceeds to settle in front of Nightwing, her place would normally be at the head of the table, but she finds the attention he's giving her endearing. Oh well, what will their expression be when they see who is under the mask? It's not that she knows who they are, but she could guess, however, she will not be wandering in those directions.

“So you have a network of contacts?” Robin seems very excited by the information and seems to want to know more, much more. His curiosity is well received, especially since there is no malice, at least she cannot perceive it. "How do you open those portals? Is it related to heroes?"

"Quiet. All those questions will be clear at the meeting… so Nightwing, you didn't say anything, did a bird tear your tongue out?" This time, her smile changes to a cheekier one. John taught her to smile like that, it's a fun flirting game they have.

"I'm giving myself time to process everything, you really caught us off guard. We wanted to talk to one or two of you, I wasn't expecting us to have a meeting scheduled. ”He smiles humorously, he doesn't lie, sure, but it's not the whole reason.

"Oh, understandable. Although I could swear that the cause of your distraction was me. "Marinette is having fun, the years when she could barely talk to someone she liked, even a little, are long gone and buried, now it's much easier.

He doesn't respond to what was said because they see the others enter, being surprised to see several of them without a mask. Tim quickly recognizes Chloe Bourgeois, how not to do it, she is a MP and they have seen her several times in the news, she has very good press on her part. They also see Felix Graham of Vanily, Dick remembers him from that red carpet that Stephanie insisted on seeing months ago, in addition to the photos that Tim showed her from the newspapers of when Gabriel Agreste was arrested. The others, they don't recognize at all, although there are a couple of faces that they are sure they should recognize.

"Nice to meet you" Luka takes the initiative to say hello, sitting next to Marinette and taking his partner by the hand to take a seat next to him, Damian immediately claims the seat on the other side of his mother, refusing to take off his mask, even though everyone has put it aside.

"The pleasure is ours." Dick is the one who responds, more alert for the presence of everyone else.

"Do you have any specific questions or do you prefer to wait for us to finish explaining?" Felix asks, settling in next to Damian, the center of the table will always be where Marinette is sitting, so he will always be close to her. The Great Guardian is the main focus in any gathering, even if others don't know her importance.

"Just one." Tim responds, driven by his curiosity because he suddenly has these people who take care of his identity coming to use magic for that purpose, showing his face to them too easily. "Why are you showing us your identities?"

"We'll get to that, Robin. We'll start by introducing ourselves. ”Marinette smiles more kindly, taking a more professional approach now that everyone is settled in and the meeting has begun. Only Max is missing, but they know that he is busier with something more important. "It's hard not to recognize myself, people pay more attention to me than I'm comfortable receiving. Everyone knows me as Marie Lenoir, but my friends know my name is Marinette. ”She takes off her mask and Dick chokes on his own breath. Tim is very surprised, but doesn't show it. "He's my son, Damian.”The boy just frowns in his direction and thinks long and hard before lowering his mask.

Dick doesn't know how to feel about the Damian thing, he's a boy, a boy who surely has a lot of training or she wouldn't let him run around, right? In addition, he carries two swords with him, these being his main weapons, from what he could see of his suit, in addition to some other tools that he surely keeps in the thick belt that looks like cloth, the boy is covered in green, black and gray tones; He has even pulled his hood down revealing his tousled dark hair, very different from when he was seen at country house.

"Felix Graham of Vanily, although if you did a little research on the situation from seven years ago, you know who I am."

"Chloe Bourgeois, impossible not to know about me. I go out unnecessarily on television..."

"And I thought you loved the attention, Chloe." Nathaniel scoffs and she in response shakes her head the other way, hitting him lightly with her hair, drawing a little laugh from Alix at their childish fights that never change. "Nathaniel Kurtzberg, I'm not well known.”He shrugs, but smiles at the two guards. "And he's Marc Anciel.”

Marc just greets them with a little shyness, althoug he keeps moving forward and has made great progress by himself, plus he got his own confidence gain in his work and that's something about it that he will always be safe, no matter how uncomfortable he's in social situations.

"Alix Kudbel." She's simple with her presentation, doesn't see the need to focus too much on assuming something they might or might not know about them.

"Kagami Tsurugi, he's my boyfriend, Luka Couffaine." Simple and clear, Kagami wants to move fast to make the rules of the game clear. Having more allies was always a plan that was discussed when the MT started, but it's still a matter that puts everyone on edge. "Ideally, you should show your identities, the information that we will share with you is not something that is said to any random stranger. Mari-hime doesn't trust just anyone and her instincts are rarely wrong, but we need a guarantee."

Can the people they choose be trusted?

------

It's a Nara: We already made contact with Nightwing and Robin

Silent Hill: Oh perfect

Kiss my ass: So everything ready for the reunion on the weekend?

It’s aNara: Yes, hopefully, they will join too

Not in Hell: It will be entertaining

Kiss my ass: Of course it will! It will be so chaotic

It’s a Nara: I hope not, we will deal with serious matters

Oscar de la Rosa: I already booked the tickets for my trip to London

Divine gift: Everything perfectly calculated, excellent, Jean

Oscar de la Rosa: We must ensure that nothing gets out of control

Silent Hill: You guys are very efficient, they remind me of Alfred

Divine gift: No one can beat Alfred

Oscar de la Rosa: But it is an honor that you mention it

It’s a Nara: Who is Alfred?

Divine gift: A butler

Oscar de la Rosa: A Butler

#dick x marinette #dickinette #maribat #mominette

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jasontoddiefor · 5 years ago

Text

Title: the kind that was burned first [chapter 5 & 6] Summary: The last two characters wondering about what secrets time travelling Obi-Wan and Anakin are hiding. AN: And this little 6 chapter project is finished. It was fun!

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#5 Shmi Skywalker

The last time Shmi Skywalker saw her son, he was walking into the desert at night. He’d been hurt all over and decided that he would not survive another day under their Master’s hand. Their Master wouldn’t dare to blow him up, so hopefully Anakin would make it through the night and off this awful planet quickly enough. Shmi had kissed him goodbye, filled his pockets with everything useful and sellable they had and saw him off.

She hadn’t been able to fall asleep after, too worried for him, and yet forcing herself to prepare for the beating that would await her in the morning. Their Master would be upset and Shmi would have to bear it, but at least her son would be free.

She held onto that thought come morning when their Master came to demand their service and began shouting at her, his face turned red. It almost made Shmi miss Watto. The Toydarian had hurt them as well, but he had never raised his voice so much. She’d been able to ignore him then, focus on the pain and lullabies she hummed beneath her cries.

“Where is he!?” Their Master had screamed into her face.

“Here.”

Shmi looked up from the ground and stared at the entrance to their small home where Anakin stood. He looked so much older than he had last night and much more exhausted too. But there was also something else lingering just beneath the surface that she couldn’t name. It reminded her of the hours before a sandstorm when the wind chimes still played their songs but the air was already becoming hard to breathe.

“Leave her alone,” Anakin said, voice flat.

He didn’t sound like her son, Shmi realized. That was what disturbed her. His intonation was off, his body language strange. He stood straight like he wanted to draw attention to himself. No slave stood so proudly, so sure of themselves.

This wasn’t her child anymore.

Their Master’s face twisted into an angry growl. “How dare you, boy!? Where have you been? Answer your Master!”

He hated Anakin, always had, and used every opportunity to ruin her dear son. Every day Shmi had always been forced to watch, to ask Anakin to please bear it so he might survive another day. Their Master only kept Anakin around because his worth as a mechanic outweighed his costs.

The spirit who had taken hold of her son was more powerful than her child. Anakin would fall on his knees, apologies and beg as he swallowed his rage, but the spirit did no such thing.

“You are not my Master,” The spirit snarled.

Their owner took a step forward and then he suddenly stopped. His hands went to his throat and he began choking. His eyes were wide in shock, drool ran out of his mouth and Shmi watched as their tormenter dropped to his knee and died painfully. It was just like in the stories of slaves disappearing into the desert, returning with the storms to wage war on all the Masters.

The spirit’s breathing calmed and cold blue eyes stared at the body on the ground.

“Have you come to free us?” Shmi asked the spirit.

He turned to look at her again, all coolness suddenly disappearing from his face. As if thunder had struck him, he took a step back, helplessness overcoming him.

“I-“

Whatever he wanted to say was interrupted by two piercing cries. He jumped up and rushed outside only to return with two crying bundles. Almost panicked, he began to rock them, but the cries wouldn’t subside.

“Please,” he begged. “I know you didn’t ask for this, please stop crying.”

But the children, newborns if Shmi were to guess, wouldn’t calm.

“May I?” She asked.

The spirit wearing her son’s face observed her, then, hesitantly, gave her one of the children. Dark brown hair covered the babe’s head and their scream was as loud as that of the krayt dragon. Softly Shmi began rocking the child, singing and walking around the small room until they stopped. The other child calmed as well, though the spirit’s attempts at caring for them were by far not as eased as hers. He was like a japor tree, too stiff and harsh, like he was standing only because he was still forcing himself to.

“I used to do the same with my son,” she told the spirit. “Is he still in there?”

The spirit froze, but it was all the answer she needed. Her dear Anakin was gone then, had disappeared into the dunes and left a shifter his body so he may do what Anakin couldn’t.

“Someday, again, maybe,” the spirit answered. “I don’t know. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, I just wanted to erase my mistakes and myself, not this.”

He looked at the child in his arms. The babe was wide awake now, but silent. Their eyes were as blue as her son’s had been, as the spirit’s still were.

“What are their names?” Shmi asked instead of lingering on the spirit’s distress.

“Luke and Leia, they were my children once.”

Their names were beautiful, strong too. The spirit had chosen well for them, they would survive even the harshest of droughts.

“And now they are not anymore?”

The spirit looked lost. His expression reminded Shmi painfully of Anakin. He’d lost that openness as he’d grown older, but as a young boy he hadn’t been shy to show what he was thinking. He had been so bright then already, his being much too big for his small frame.

“They shouldn’t exist,” the spirit said, his voice full of hope despite, or perhaps exactly to contrast his spoken words.

He loved his children, that much was clear to Shmi. She didn’t want to imagine what he’d do to the person who would dare to come in-between him and these two young souls. He had killed their old Master with ease, she doubted he’d afford the same mercy to whoever chose to hurt them.

“My son shouldn’t have either,” Shmi said. It was a common story in the slave quarters, but for Shmi it held true in a way it didn’t for most. “He doesn’t have a father. You’ll find a lot of impossible things in this galaxy.”

“I know,” the spirit replied. “But I stole their rightful parents in my selfishness. I wanted them to grow up happy and safe, nothing more, and yet here they are again, suffering for my mistakes.”

Her Anakin would probably smack the spirit upside the head now. Slaves couldn’t afford to pity themselves or wallow in regret. It was a lesson they learned early on, the spirit must have forgotten it.

“Then perhaps this is what you are here for, to make up for your mistakes.”

The spirit laughed bitterly. “I can’t fix the whole galaxy.”

Shmi thought of her son flying through Beggar’s Canyon and counting the stars at night, even when his lungs ached and his feet were bleeding.

“My Anakin wanted to.”

“I know,” the spirit repeated once more. “He was a fool.”

Anger rushed through Shmi and the spirit, as if sensing the suns burning his flesh, startled, tearing his eyes away from Luke to look at Shmi instead. Shmi could tolerate a lot, her life had been nothing if not a lesson in patience and endurance, but the shifter in her son’s skin wouldn’t talk badly about the gift he’d been given at the cost of another.

“But he has something worth living for. Can you say the same of yourself?”

“I’ve lived four more years for my son and I wanted to erase time for my daughter,” the spirit said slowly. “I don’t know how to do anything but live for others.”

“You ought to learn it then, and when you have, return my Anakin to me.”

The spirit’s lips twitched upwards, an echo of a smile shining through. “Are you bargaining with me?”

The storms settled. The colors slowly disappeared from the sky and left behind the vibrant blue of a new day.

“You spirits made the rules of this desert, I am merely following them. Accept what you have been given to do your work, return when you are finished.”

“I don’t know how to finish, I’ve never known where to start or stop.”

The spirit was being difficult on purpose. Shmi huffed and handed him his daughter back, helped him adjust his hold on her. He needed some sort of carrier bag or perhaps a scarf so he could wrap both children to his chest.

“It seems to me like you are I need of a teacher then. I cannot teach you freedom.”

Shmi looked at her dead owner lying on the ground. She would take her tracker from him, cut it out of herself be free. She could hardly recall what freedom was, she’d been too young when she was captured to understand what luxury she’d been living in. She had to figure that out for herself first before she could show another.

“Do you know someone who can show you?”

“I-“ The spirit’s eyes clouded over and then he closed them. “He’s alive.”

“You know where to go then?” Shmi asked him.

“Yes,” the spirit answered. “Yes, I know where to go. Shmi Skywalker, I promise you, you will see your son again.”

“I will hold you to that promise then.”

Her son returned to her almost two years later. He couldn’t stay, but Shmi had always known he was meant for something greater than the dunes of Tatooine. He was still holding onto the spirit’s children, walking and talking chubby toddlers by now, but he also brought a stranger with him. The man that was introduced to her as Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight, had the same old eyes as her son.

Spirits, Shmi learned as she watched the two interact, left their marks.

+1 Count Dooku

Isn’t the most tragic love story

the one that never had the chance to become? The kind that was burned first, Came crashing down after, And finally bled to death in the cold ocean deep Before even one word could be exchanged?

- Thoughts about Icarus & Apollo

Dooku had spent three miserable years imprisoned, wondering when and where it had all gone wrong. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t oblivious to his own flaws. He was well aware that he could be arrogant at times, a trait not even Master Yoda’s many meditations had been able to get rid of, but his solitary confinement did force him to occupy his thoughts somehow. With the control he’d learned from birth, he forced himself to go through his every memory, examining even the moments he loathed to remember. Dooku knew now that he never should have let Sidious influence him for so long, Fall for his manipulations instead of Falling for his own beliefs. Created darksiders were never quite as mentally sound as those who had come to the dark on their own. Ventress had been a good example of the latter. Never a true Sith, no, she wasn’t worthy of that title, but her darkness had left her sane where many others of Sidious’s acolytes had submitted to madness.

Now that even the last cracks Sidious had left in his mind had healed, Dooku was beginning to reevaluate his situation and found that he had significantly more power within the safety of his prison than he has assumed. He easily could have been sentenced to death, but the Republic’s new and so Palpatine-distant leadership had spoken against it. Too much death had marred their space, or so they claimed, and Dooku would be a good source of information, should he decide to speak. He hadn’t so far as there was nothing to gain from it. He had been promised a lot, certainly, but while he had enjoyed the riches that came with being the Count of Serenno, he had been brought up as a Jedi. He didn’t need life’s comforts to keep thriving. Nowadays, with his mind clearer and sharper than it had been since before his Fall, Dooku knew that there was something he wanted enough to break his silence. He was plagued by a never-changing vision he was forced to relive in his every nightmare for years now. He wanted answers so he could finally put it to rest.

“I’ll be taking my leave then, Dooku,” Qui-Gon announced.

Like a clockwork, his former Padawan showed up once a month, first asking whether Dooku was willing to give up any final Separatist and Sith secrets, then continuing to speak about their lineage. The news he brought of Obi-Wan were truly fascinating. Dooku had regretted being unable to secure the young man as his apprentice. He was clever, but now Dooku was aware that Obi-Wan was much smarter than he had given him credit for during the war. Truly, he was a master negotiator now walking the fine line between debate and manipulation.

He was certainly a credit to their lineage.

“Bring your Padawan and his partner with you the next time you come,” Dooku told Qui-Gon. The Jedi, ever the diplomat Dooku had raised him to be, didn’t show even a hint of surprise. “I might feel inclined to share some details.”

Qui-Gon only nodded shortly, then left the room, his brown robes flaring behind him. Such dramatics for a man so keen to claim he only sought peace and calm.

Satisfied, Dooku bid Qui-Gon farewell. Neither the Senate nor the Council would let Dooku wait for long. Back in his cell, he fell into a light meditation and waited.

He had become very patient in the last years, the days passed so quickly they were hardly worth counting.

It took barely a month for his request to be fulfilled. Dooku wasn’t surprised to see that his own Master had come along, likely he was there to attempt to get a read on Dooku’s reactions. He didn’t particularly care about hiding his own intentions. In fact, if it became clear that he wasn’t here to lie and spread dissent, it would only work in his favor. Dooku wanted honest answers and Kenobi and the supernova called Skywalker would be able to provide them, at their own expense.

The two of them were a sight to behold as they entered his humble cell. They moved in total synchronicity, something you hardly saw these days anymore. It took years to master such control and affinity. He would have enjoyed dueling the two of them at least once. Obi-Wan was already a terror on his own, but with the backing of Skywalker’s endless power, they could have been the content of legends.

Yoda had accompanied them as well but waited outside. His former Master had only visited him once during the beginning of his imprisonment and their discussion likely would have ended with them crossing blades if not for the fact that neither had been holding onto their ‘sabers. Yoda had to hand his own over and Dooku was certain his own was back in a holding cell in the temple. Obi-Wan and Skywalker both sat down at the table.

“I welcome you to my humble abode,” Dooku said. “How are the two of you?”

Skywalker was the impatience to Obi-Wan’s serenity. He hid it well, let Obi-Wan speak for him and hardly contributed to the small talk, no matter how many questions Dooku directed at him.

“Count,” Obi-Wan finally gave in. Skywalker’s annoyance must have been wearing him down as well. “What do you want? You’ve been refused to speak for years, what changed?”

“I’ve grown annoyed with Qui-gin’s visits and ramblings about your children. Really, Obi-Wan, I’d never have taken you for a revolutionary.”

Skywalker’s eyes narrowed as soon as Dooku mentioned the twins. Truthfully, Qui-Gon hadn’t said much about them, but the way he spoke about them said enough.

“What do you want?” Skywalker hissed.

Dooku leaned back in his chair. Their chit-chat was over, Skywalker was agitated and would misstep if Dooku just played his cards right.

“You see, when my Master died, I was allowed a glimpse into his mind,” Dooku began to speak. This time, Skywalker wasn’t quick enough. He tensed and straightened his posture. “I saw so much shock, not a surprise considering his visions of grandeur, but also a lot of hatred and anger, the latter largely not his own.”

It had overwhelmed Dooku in that moment, sent him to his knees and left him wondering if that was the true darkness. Depths so horrid he wouldn’t ever be able to reach them, no matter how furious he was at the state of the galaxy. It had been so deeply personal, the hatred that stemmed from being entirely unmade.

“I’ve been puzzling about that moment for three years now, hoping it would become more clear-sighted. The longer I’ve been left here on my own, with only my thoughts and Qui-Gon’s incessant ramblings, the more did the vision take shape. I saw a man standing above Sidious. He was young, eyes burning, flickering like the colors of the skies. His words were the most confusing though.”

Skywalker and Obi-Wan had paled considerably. Happy with himself, Dooku smiled in content as he quoted the words that used to sound like white noise back at them.

“‘You will not enslave the galaxy again.’ Tell me, does the Order know it’s been harboring a Sith all these years?”

Skywalker flinched and Obi-Wan rose quickly as if they were in a duel and not seated at a table. So the Order wasn't aware of Skywalker’s nature. Curious, Dooku would have thought it was a reason they let Obi-Wan get away with so many transgressions when it came to Skywalker while the rest of the Order was still so slow to change and accept its own amendments.

“Anakin is not a Sith,” Obi-Wan replied fiercely in defense of the other. The argument would have been more convincing had he kept his calm.

“I have been wondering why Qui-Gon has been so insistent on visiting me all these years, and I believe I have found the answer.”

The Jedi were taught from birth that there was no returning from the dark side of the Force and yet Qui-Gon had been entertaining him when he really should have just let go of Dooku, washed his hands clean of him as Yoda had. Instead, they had talked more civilly with each other lately than they had when Dooku was still a Jedi.

Qui-Gon hadn’t just begun tugging at a non-existent bond for no reason, he had been hoping for a change. It had been this thought that tipped Dooku off. Someone must have planted the thought that Dooku needed to be saved in his mind. Unfortunately, he couldn’t even claim that his former student was wrong. Dooku couldn’t reach for the light, not yet perhaps, it still knocked the air out of his lungs, but the dark wasn’t exactly comfortable still either.

“You might not be a Sith anymore, but your once were,” Dooku told Skywalker. “The taint of the dark never really leaves. Somewhere in between killing Sidious, finding Obi-Wa and returning to the Temple with him, you crawled out of the deepest pit of the dark side, breaking centuries of Jedi teachings while you were at it.”

Skywalker’s hands were clenched to fists. Dooku didn’t need to hear him say it, he had his answer already. No matter how much Obi-Wan would attempt to deny it now, perhaps even attempt to skillfully manipulate the situation in his favor, Dooku knew the truth now.

“Were you Sidious’s other apprentice? I assumed he would have a back-up in case I decided to betray him. He was not much of a banite Sith unlike his own Master,” Dooku continued. “I wondered about your words as well. Was it a vision of the future that forced you to destroy him? Or something more? His thoughts were a mess, but his confusion at your appearance clear. I just can’t tell whether he was shocked you were there at all or because he couldn’t recognize you.”

Skywalker kept silent as Obi-Wan once more started speaking. “Do you have anything concrete you’d actually like to say-”

“Vader.”

The word echoed through the otherwise silent room.

Obi-Wan looked at Skywalker with great concern, but Skywalker was staring at his hands.

“He named me Darth Vader.”

Skywalker looked up and there it was, all that righteous fury, that anger Dooku recognized.

“And I executed you at his behest.”

Obi-Wan took one of Skywalker’s hands. “Anakin-“

Skywalker shook his head. “You want the truth?” He asked, unnecessarily.

“Be my guest.”

“He told me to kill you and I did. I razed the Jedi to the ground. The old, the sick, the young, all of them slain by my blade. I didn’t stop, I hunted them all down to the last member. I killed my wife, I attacked my Master and for over two decades I did every cruelty my Emperor demanded from me. I watched as entire worlds were annihilated, I tortured my daughter, I injured my son because Sidious ordered his apprentice, his slave, to do so. I did it all and worse, nightmares you can’t imagine that make the Clone Wars look like the joke it was.”

Obi-Wan was visibly struggling to keep his breathing under control the longer Skywalker talked, revealing every cruelty he had committed with so much honesty that Dooku believed it even when he knew it couldn’t possibly be the truth. And yet, the Force was not protesting. No, it was weeping with every word, crying for all the souls lost. It sounded like madness, like a horrible vision, a nightmare come alive-

“Time travel,” Dooku finally breathed. “Are you seriously suggesting you and Obi-Wan what- traveled through time? Ripped half the galaxy and its flow to shreds so you could right your wrongdoings?”

Skywalker shrugged, the gesture entirely too boyish for how his hard gaze was fixating Dooku, pinning him to his chair and this gruesome conversation.

“I was dying and begged the Force to take me. I never should have existed in the first place, a child created from nothing. It seemed reasonable to me at the time that something as grand as the power that binds the galaxy together should also be unable to unravel it like threads of yarn.”

“But you’re here.”

“Because of a shatterpoint, maybe. In one timeline Qui-Gon found me on Naboo, in another he didn’t. I didn’t ask for Obi-Wan to come with me, nor did I deserve my children’s presence, but here they are, keeping me tethered to the light. I’ve never been able to hold onto causes for long, I need people around me. You were right when you said that the taint of the darkness will always cling to me. When I faced Sidious, I was so ready to Fall again, return as Vader and ruin myself once more for others.”

Dooku turned to Obi-Wan. “You interfered. I thought I had heard a second voice call out, but I believed I had imagined it.”

Obi-Wan only frowned. “Yes. As soon as I felt Anakin arrive on Coruscant, I knew what he’d do.”

“So you stopped him.”

The conclusion was easy to reach, but Dooku suspected that it hid a thousand more declarations. Obi-Wan would have left the Order for Anakin, perhaps even would have stayed with him had he Fallen again.

“So I did,” Obi-Wan agreed.

Their gazes rested heavily on Dooku’s shoulders. Who would believe him, should he ever reveal the truth that had just been laid bare in front of him? And what more, what would he gain from it? Nothing, Dooku realized. All he’d earn would be Skywalker’s fury, which was so immense it compelled the Force to fulfill his wish, even if not in the way he had wanted it to.

“Why tell me?” Dooku asked once he found his voice again. “You had no reason to.”

“You would have gone digging anyway,” Skywalker replied. “And you’re the only one who figured it out despite being locked away. The others in the temple just got too used to us acting oddly I suppose. I hardly recall what the code actually is and Obi-Wan has been taught better by my son.”

“And you can’t necessarily do anything with this information,” Obi-Wan added. “All you know now is what awaits you when you side-step.”

Yes, Dooku could see that with stunning clarity now. Perhaps this confrontation had been of use for him after all. He didn’t think Skywalker would let anyone who was a threat to his family stay within his reach for long. Dooku would have to reevaluate his plans for the future. He wasn’t a hopeless fool who fought battles he couldn’t win.

“If you were Sidious’s apprentice, I assume you know about his Sith secrets?”

Skywalker snorted. “Yes, but only those he ever saw fit to show me.”

“I am relieved to hear his teaching methods didn’t change then. I shall tell you what I know, you may add whatever intel you have to present to the Council and the Senate.”

Obi-Wan actually looked surprised. “Why?”

“Insurance,” Dooku replied. “And I promised I’d share information with you if you showed up, didn’t I?”

Dooku had made no such promises, but Obi-Wan and Skywalker were kind enough not to call him out on it.

“And I have some knowledge of Separatist groups within the Senate still that might prove useful if you are willing to listen.”

Obi-Wan and Skywalker let him talk for almost an hour, interrupting only a few times to ask questions. At the end of their interrogation, they left the room with an abrupt goodbye. Dooku didn’t think he’d see them again, he was fairly sure he also didn’t want to meet with them again. The burden they were carrying was so heavy it threatened to crush him. There were kinder conversations he could be having.

“Impressionable, they are, hm?” Yoda asked him.

Dooku would have laughed if the knowledge he’d gained wasn’t still twisting his thoughts.

“Very much so,” he replied instead. “Tell me, have they spoken to you about returning from the dark side? I believe their theories have merit. I shall attempt to test them out.”

Yoda smacked his stick against the ground. “A troublesome student you were, troublesome you still are.”

“If you say so, Master. What has Qui-Gon been up to? He has spoken with much enthusiasm about the Order’s more recent reforms. How well are those actually going? He has always had a tendency to embellish his tales.”

Though, with Obi-Wan and Skywalker around, perhaps Qui-Gon’s impossible claims were more truthful than not.

#star wars #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #shmi skywalker #obikin #count dooku #fanfic #aaand this story is finished

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jenovahh · 5 years ago

Text

Emet-Selch/WoL - NSFW

You were going to hell.

Any of the seven, or probably all of them at once. Would Hydaelyn see fit to return you to the lifestream? You’re surprised she has yet to smite you where you stand.

“You’re back.”

You remain as still as possible, arms obediently at your sides even as you flex your fingers; your last bit of control that you had given up weeks ago. Your breath is barely contained for how fast it rushes from your chest, blood surging like lightning through your veins as golden eyes sweep you in shameless appreciation.

You can feel your skin alight in anticipation, as if the very aether around you is charged, and in his presence, it just might be.

“Have you come to behave?”

“I’ve come to keep you in check.”

You immediately bite down on your lip, wishing you could take back your words. Defiance didn’t get you what you wanted.

At least, not as quickly.

“There’s that spark.” His voice is cool much like the air surrounding you, almost as if it can slip beneath your clothes before his hands do. “What lie did you spin for your friends this time? Ruins to explore? Business back on the Source?” The man before you asks, finally moving to stand.

It is thankfully dark, though you know he’d have it no other way. Only the books are witness to your shame, surrounded by the many tomes of the Cabinet of Curiosity. Moren is blessedly absent, most likely out enjoying the ability to sleep at night like the many other residents of the Crystarium, the city unusually quiet for it’s standards.

However, the stillness makes the sound of your heart beating frantically in your chest that much louder, the blood rushing in your ears almost deafening. But it’s his gaze that you can hear, as strange as it sounds. It’s what those golden eyes say without speaking that has you nearly shaking with need.

Even though the baritone of his voice seems just barely above a whisper, the desire is so loud it threatens to overtake you. Perhaps that was more so his aether than anything, to let you feel how hungry he was for you before he even got within arms reach.

“What would your little friends say, seeing you here?” He questions, slowly moving closer to you. “Their precious Warrior of Light, sneaking out like a child of only fourteen summers, to meet with one they loathe so much.” He pauses once he finally stands before you, his arms crossed behind his back, staring at you with that infuriating smirk. “To meet, with me.”

“They would say nothing, because they won’t find out.” You ground out, giving him a pointed look that doesn’t seem to faze him in the least. If anything it just broadens his smirk, his hand gently catching your chin to tilt your head.

“Is that so?” Everything about him is cold like a Coerthan day. From the feel of his breath on your skin, to carefully woven cloth of his gloves. “I do suppose I have nothing to gain by letting them know of your...weakness.” He purrs, gently stroking a thumb across your bottom lip. Opening your mouth further, you allow him to slide it in, teeth nipping at the cloth as you try to tug it off his hand. “Eager today are we?” He doesn’t have to ask to know that you are a woman dying of thirst and him an oasis. He merely likes hearing it out loud, and you won’t give him the satisfaction.

“Don’t think I won’t take your silence as defiance.” He chuckles, as if it’s his own personal joke. Withdrawing his hand, his glove slides right off with ease, his skin pale in the moonlight. “You forget who is in control.”

That word. Your eyes flash dangerously. “I am not under your control.” You hiss, glove dropping from your mouth, to the floor. His eyes darken at that, arm reaching out to bring you against him roughly. Your light gasp doesn’t go unnoticed, nor does the way your body presses against his own. “Tell me again then, how you are not under my control.” he growls, pushing you back against one of the nearby tables. With a firm shove, your feet leave the ground, falling against the hardwood none too gently.

You try to push back but he looms over you, blocking the moon from your sight. “I could feel your aether, the hunger suffused within from malms away.” He settles himself between your legs, the lower part of your gear melting away into shadow with a resounding snap. Your face heats as he unabashedly stares at the junction of your thighs, an appraising look on his face as the other hand that’s still gloved reaches for your slit.

The slick from your opening soaks the fabric without even trying, his finger just barely brushing your clit that has your hips jerking toward his hand. “Your body cannot hide how much you want me.” His voice is low, sinful, and it only serves to make you shudder further. Removing his hand, you bite your lip in frustration, knowing it is better to let him tease you than fight him. The more defiant you were, the more he would prolong your release.

He examines his hand, tongue reaching out to taste your liquids, moving his mouth on his finger in the lewdest way. He pulls his glove off with his teeth as he finishes, letting it fall to the floor with a satisfied grin. “As sweet as always.” His now bare hand moves to slide against your wet folds with a deliberate slowness, teasing just around your clit that has you whining in frustration.

Oh, how you hate it. Hate him.

“You don’t really hate me.” He croons, as smug as when you first met him. His aether brushes against your own, his darkness cool and inviting to how unbearable warm you feel. “Or perhaps you do. And instead, you hate that you cannot stop yourself from coming to me.” His teeth gleam in the dark of the night. “Or coming for me.”

“You basta--ah,” He slips a finger inside your body, your walls trying to trying to draw the digit deeper within.

“Such foul words, hero. Surely you know much kinder things to say, don’t you?” He whispers, slowly plunging his finger in and out, thrusting it into your needy hole. Dark magic slowly winds up around your legs, caressing, touching already sensitive skin, feeding your pleasure slowly. “Ah, but kindness is not why you come to me, now is it?” With more whispers of magic is your chest bared before him, his mouth leaning ever so closely at the valley of your breasts. “You come to give up control...to the only higher power you can think of.” He purrs against your skin, tongue tracing a line through the valley of your breasts up to your neck.

You try to push back, genuinely you do, try to hang onto those notions of good versus evil you so desperately hang onto. Emet-Selch tires of your inner battle, tendrils of aether coming up to gently grab your hands, but firmly tug them off his body. “D-Don’t,”

“Don’t what?” He asks, sounding completely and utterly bored. “Really, hero, I tire of your constant denial. It has long since lost its novelty.” The tendrils pin your hands down to the table, leaving him free to continue his ravishing uninterrupted. “You can hardly deny anything anymore; you’re here with your legs spread open for me like a common harlot.”

It’s a direct shot at your pride and you fix him with a hot glare. “I won’t sit here and,” More tendrils shape into being, slithering up your back to come and wrap around your front. They cup your breasts, encircling them in a way that has you unable to hide your moan.

Emet-Selch sighs dramatically as he steps away, snapping his fingers. A chair slides behind him instantly, just in time to catch him as he sits down. “If you must continue to bore me with your refusal to accept your own truth, I will at least try to make a good show for myself.” He looks absolutely disinterested, but even you can see the glimmer of lust in his topaz eyes. His arousal stands out, even beneath his many robes, but not for long as he crosses his legs and a tendril tilts your head upward so that you’re forced to meet his eyes.

“R-Release me,” You demand shakily, groaning as a tendril flicks at your clit.

“Admit the truth you are so determined to hold onto, hero.” He conjures a glass of wine out of thin air, swirling the ruby liquid in its glass. “Though at the rate you are going...we might be here for quite some time. Well into morning perhaps...” Dark lips pull into a cruel smirk as the tendril finally plunges inside you, your walls desperate to pull it deeper. “For your sake, I hope you find the words soon.”

==================================================

another drabble ive been sitting on a long time

#emet selch #solus zos galvus #FFXIV #ff14 #Final Fantasy XIV #drabble

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crackimagines · 5 years ago

Text

Keep Your Faith (FE: Three Houses Full Fic)

Persona 5 3H AU Masterlist Here!

---

Silver Snow

As the Church of Seiros prepares to make its final assault against the Adrestian Empire and rescue Lady Rhea, the Black Eagles and Phantom Thieves are sent as the vanguard.

Though Akira and the others do not want to kill Edelgard, they are told there are no options.

...But, is there truly no other way?

---

The armies stormed past the gates of Enbarr, and began securing the streets as the others moved towards the Capital building.

(Seteth) “Everyone, it is probable that Rhea is within the castle walls. We must defeat Edelgard and rescue Rhea in one fell swoop, no matter what stands in our way.”

(Byleth) “I don’t want to kill Edelgard.”

Byleth never showed much emotion before, but just that one sentence made it clear that even thinking of the idea caused him immense amounts of pain.

(Akira) “Neither do we. She was our friend!”

(Seteth) “Was your friend is correct to say. Now she is an enemy. I understand your desire for peace, but she will never bend to our will. We have no other choice but to kill her.”

(Ferdinand) “We have already killed Hubert, we have no time to hesi-”

(Ann) “You WHAT?!”

The Phantom Thieves were moving to incapacitate enemy strongholds on the way to the capital building, but left the fighting to the others while they were the distraction.

They had planned on simply knocking out Hubert but-

Ryuji grabbed Ferdinand by the collar.

(Ryuji) “THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU ALL?!”

(Ferdinand) “This is war, Ryuji! If we hesitate, then WE are the ones getting killed!”

(Caspar) “Besides, she started this war, so she has it coming!”

(Kasumi) “Did the time we spend with her mean anything to you all?!”

(Bernadetta) “O-Of course it did! But there’s no other way!”

(Makoto) “There’s ALWAYS another way!”

(Akechi) “...No, there really isn’t.”

Everyone turned to him.

(Akechi) “Look how much she’s done at this point, if she was willing to talk, it would have happened by now. Trying to see the good in her now isn’t going to do shit.”

(Phantom Thieves) “...”

(Petra) “This battle will be a deciding one. I am believing that her wish is to fight us.”

(Linhardt) “There’s no room for a peaceful option anymore. That’s the truth of the matter.”

(Dorothea) “I-I feel the same way as you all. I don’t want to kill any of our old friends but...”

Akira looked at the class and couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

They really had changed during the five years they were absent, haven’t they?

(Byleth) “Enough...We’ve wasted enough time bickering, they most likely have their defenses ready. We need to prepare for the final strike ourselves. Get into positions and wait for my signal.”

Everyone began moving with the rest of the soldiers as Byleth put a hand on Akira’s shoulders.

(Byleth) “I want you all to come with me.”

The Phantom Thieves followed Byleth until they are out of earshot with the rest of the class.

(Byleth) “...I haven’t really seen it in action myself but...You all can change hearts, right?”

(Yusuke) “Professor...Are you asking us to-”

(Byleth) “I am. I beg of you to change Edelgard’s heart. I do not want to see another one of my students die today.”

(Morgana) “Edelgard’s the target, huh? Does everyone agree to this?”

(Haru) “I do. She was with us since the very beginning.”

(Futaba) “Yeah, I’d feel like I’d be betraying her if we didn’t.”

(Akira) “Her cognition may be too strong to change but...We’ll try.”

(Byleth) “Thank you. That’s all I ask.”

Everyone else nodded.

(Akechi) “...Guess the very least we could do is hear her out. But when the plan goes to shit, prepare for the worst, Kurusu.”

Akira didn’t want to think about that, but deep down he knew Akechi and the others were right.

The possibility of having to kill Edelgard seemed very likely.

It was times like these where he wished that Palaces formed normally in Fodlan.

The way it worked in this world was that the person’s shadow powered up their real life counterparts, making it virtually impossible to change people’s hearts.

But, there was chance it could work...

And that’s all Akira needed.

(Byleth) “We’ll be moving in to strike in half an hour. That’s all the time I can afford to you.”

(Akira) “We’ll save Edelgard. Don’t worry.”

(Byleth) “Then leave Rhea to us. Good luck, Phantom Thieves.”

Byleth walked away as the Phantom Thieves masks formed onto their faces with a blue flame.

(Akira) “Everyone, move in to infiltration positions. Violet, Crow, you’re with me.”

...

[Blood of a Villain - Persona 5]

(Edelgard) “So, they’ve made it into the palace, but it’s actually the perfect chance to turn the tables on them.

Defeating them will change the tide of the war instantly. Taking a risk on dragging us back from the brink is the only option.

EVERYONE, PREPARE FOR A BITTER STRUGGLE! VICTORY TO THE ADRESTIAN EMPIRE!”

(Soldiers) “FOR THE EMPIRE! FOR THE EMPEROR!”

The soldiers rushed out the doors while Edelgard grabbed her relic weapon.

(Edelgard) “...And I see you all have the same resolve as well.”

The Phantom Thieves dropped down from the ceiling, and Akira walked forth.

(Akira) “Edelgard...”

(Edelgard) “I thought you all would have stood with me against the Church. From what you told me of your world, you have dealt with a similar being like Rhea. So why? Why fight against us?”

(Ryuji) “Because, achieving peace through bloodshed ain’t any better!”

(Ann) “How is plunging the world into a civil war going to make things better?!”

(Edelgard) “If there were another option, I would have taken it, Ann. The Church controls everything!

Our cries for change would have gone unnoticed, and possibly even punished for speaking out. You know what the Church does to those who do.

But, I doubt you came to the throne room JUST to tell me that my methods are wrong. Are you here to kill me?”

(Makoto) “No. We came here to settle things WITHOUT violence.”

(Haru) “Please, lay your weapon down! We don’t want to do this!”

Kasumi elbowed Akechi’s side, and he quietly sheathed his pistol.

(Yusuke) “Professor Byleth himself asked us to do this. None of us want to shed any more blood today. There has been too much of that already.”

(Edelgard) “...Byleth asked you to?”

(Kasumi) “You’re our friend, Edelgard! Please, let’s just talk about this!”

[Keep Your Faith - Persona 5: Royal]

Edelgard closed her eyes and sighed.

(Edelgard) “I see...How regretful then.”

She clenched her weapon’s handle tightly and looked up.

(Edelgard) “I am sorry it had to come to this. But I cannot afford to back down, not even for you all.”

Edelgard’s eyes shone yellow, and a black mist slowly surrounded Edelgard.

(Morgana) “Damn it, her shadow!”

Akira reached for his mask and everyone followed suit.

(Edelgard) “Now, show me the full strength of the Phantom Thieves, Akira!”

(Kasumi) “Edelgard...!”

(Akechi) “Stubborn asshole, but suppose we’d be hypocrites if we called her out on that, huh?”

(Futaba) “Enemies coming in from behind! Joker, bring her home!”

(Akira) “Understood. Team two, good luck! TEAM ONE, PLAN B!”

The three tore the mask from their faces.

(Akira) “ARSENE!”

(Kasumi) “CENDRILLON!”

(Akechi) “LOKI!”

The room erupted into blue flames while Edelgard stood calmly, the wind pushing her cape back.

(Akira) “You’re coming with us, Edelgard!”

She said nothing as she readied herself and the Personas flew towards her.

Arsene’s heel blade slashed downwards, Edelgard blocking it as she was pushed back from the sheer force.

A circle of light surrounded Edelgard and she jumped out the way, a pillar of a bright white energy shooting outwards.

Edelgard spun around and slammed Aymr down, crushing the concrete and making Akira jump back.

Getting Aymr out of the ground, Edelgard barely deflected Akechi’s sword and jumped back as Loki’s blade stabbed into the ground where she would have been.

Twirling Aymr, she swung and hit Loki, sending him and Akechi flying into a nearby pillar and knocked away Arsene, making Akira fly off as well.

While she was distracted, Kasumi’s rapier thrusted forward managing to land a few hits on Edelgard.

Kasumi leapt into the air as Aymr swung sideways and failed to hit its target.

Landing perfectly, Kasumi got her rifle out and cranked the lever.

The first shot hit Edelgard in the arm while the second deflected off Aymr.

Akira and Akechi managed to get to a vantage point and fired their pistols together, the shots all landing in her legs and arms.

She knelt down as the Phantom Thieves moved closer, guns still pointing at her.

(Akira) “Edelgard, give up. Please.”

(Akechi) “Don’t make us hurt you even more.”

(Kasumi) “Put down the weapon...!”

(Edelgard) “I...I will...never! As long as I draw breath, I will fight to end the tyranny of that false Goddess!”

Akechi shook his head at Akira. Kasumi did the same when he looked at her.

(Akira) “...Fine then.”

The three jumped back and he gave the signal.

The three rapidly attacked Edelgard and her weak spot, the final blow sending Edelgard flying into the throne, knocking the seat over and destroying parts of it.

Edelgard slowly got up and held Aymr, still ready to fight.

Their Personas appeared behind them, waiting for their master’s input.

(Edelgard) “I...I...!”

Her legs were trembling but Edelgard fought her body in order to stand.

Cendrillon and Loki formed a holy and dark circle around Edelgard and blasted upwards.

Edelgard’s scream was bloodcurdling, yet she was still standing as her clothes were tattered and body bleeding.

(Edelgard) “IS...THAT ALL YOU GOT?!”

Her vision was beginning to go blurry as she was losing her voice.

Kasumi was starting to tear up and Akechi sighed loudly and shook his head.

Akira and Arsene walked toward Edelgard as she fell to one knee, trying to get back up.

(Akira) “...Edelgard. I’m afraid this is where your fight ends.”

Arsene’s wings folded into itself, and blew back, the gusts of wind violently knocking Edelgard out and made her drop her weapon.

Aymr clattered on the floor as Edelgard slumped against the stairs.

[Unfulfilled - Fire Emblem: Three Houses]

The rest of the Phantom Thieves came through the door and saw Edelgard on the stairs.

(Ryuji) “Hey, did you guys...?”

(Akechi) “No. We knocked her out. Though she’s in pretty bad shape.”

(Akira) “Cuff and heal her. We need to-”

(Edelgard) “S-So...”

Everyone turned to Edelgard who was on one knee again and holding Aymr.

Though this time, she didn’t seem to want to fight anymore.”

(Edelgard) “It looks as though...my path...will end here...”

(Ann) “What?”

(Yusuke) “Do not spout such nonsense. We are taking you in ALIVE, Edelgard.”

(Edelgard) “I know...But, as long as I live...this conflict will never end. Even now, people across the land are killing each other...”

(Futaba) “Then we’ll stop them with you!”

(Morgana) “G-Guys...?”

Edelgard held Aymr tightly and it started to glow.

(Edelgard) “Everyone...I’m afraid...your path lies across my grave.”

When she stood up, everyone got into a battle stance.

(Makoto) “Are you listening?! We are NOT killing you!”

(Haru) “Nothing you say will make us!”

Edelgard smiled.

(Edelgard) “I know...”

(Everyone) ?

(Edelgard) “Just like you all, I will take my ideals to my grave. So, promise me that you will keep the hope you all possess no matter what...And tell the professor-”

Akechi’s eyes went wide and he quickly drew his pistol and aimed at Aymr, but when he pulled the trigger, the pistol started clicking.

(Akechi) “SHIT!”

(Kasumi) “Crow-senpai?! What are you-”

(Akechi) “YOU IDIOTS, STOP HER!”

Akira was the first to register what Akechi meant.

But he was too slow.

(Edelgard) “All I wanted...was to walk with you all.”

Edelgard swung Aymr with her full might at herself.

(Akira) “EDELGARD!”

Edelgard fell over, the blood from Aymr in her gut starting to spill out.

Akira ran over to her and he started casting healing skills with his Persona, which prompted everyone who could heal to do the same.

Those who couldn’t heal looked over to Futaba, who was closing her eyes and looking away.

(Futaba) “Guys...she...she’s already gone...”

Akira closed his eyes as everyone else had a mixed reaction.

Ryuji punched the closest thing to him, screaming.

Ann, Makoto, Futaba and Kasumi began crying.

Haru started sniffling as she held her hat over her chest.

Akechi crossed his arms and closed his eyes, looking away.

Yusuke stood silently before turning away from the body doing the same as Akechi.

Byleth and the other Black Eagles came through the door and saw Edelgard’s body on the stairs.

(Byleth) “Edelgard...?”

(Dorothea) “Edie...S-She’s?!-”

(Akira) “Don’t...Don’t say anything...Please.”

...

One Week Later...

[Our Light - Persona 5: Royal]

The portal had appeared before the invasion of Enbarr took place, but the Phantom Thieves swore to themselves that they’d see this war through before going back to their world.

And they had done just that.

The war with the Empire had ended, Rhea rescued, and Edelgard dead.

The Phantom Thieves no longer had any business with Fodlan.

The rest of this fight was on Byleth and the Black Eagles.

Byleth and Dorothea were the only ones who knew they were leaving, with the others not knowing.

The only reason they had been notified was because they were the only ones who seemed to give a damn about killing their former friends.

(Byleth) “So...you all will finally be heading home.”

(Akira) “Yeah...Thanks for everything.”

(Dorothea) “Of course...We’re sorry we had to drag you into our fight.”

(Akira) “Don’t worry about...Just take care of yourselves, okay?”

(Byleth) “You too.”

It was awkward, but no one else had anything to say.

Everyone went to hug Byleth and Dorothea before looking at the portal.

(Akira) “Akechi, what’s going to happen to you?”

He shrugged.

(Akechi) “Hell if I know but...In case we don’t see each other again...”

Akechi stuck a hand out and shook Akira’s firmly.

(Akechi) “...See ya.”

He was the first to walk into the portal and disappeared.

Everyone turned around and waved goodbye to Byleth, and walked in.

The portal slowly started to fade away, and disappeared altogther.

Never to reappear again.

...

Persona 5 Three Houses AU:

The End...?

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toushindai · 4 years ago

Text

again to fly away

Post-epilogue, 1.9k. Even the summary is a bit spoilery, so that’s below the cut.

[ Read on AO3 ]

Nyx gives Persephone a gift before she returns to her mother.

(“Well, with your family, one learns to take precautions.”)

Persephone is dressed not in her regalia but in a simpler gown when she pokes her head around Nyx’s corner.

“I’m going to spend a little time in the garden, Nyx. Would you care to join me?”

Nyx looks down at her own midnight robes. “Should I change first?” she asks, sincerely unsure.

“No need! I just wanted to look over everything before I prepare to leave.”

That does not seem to be the entire purpose behind her invitation; usually, she tends to the garden on her own, or with Hades’ help, and Nyx notices that she offered her invitation only minutes after Zagreus’s latest departure. But, if there is something her Queen wishes to discuss in private, then Nyx will gladly oblige. And besides, any time spent with Persephone is a treasure.

So she follows Persephone outside, floating effortlessly behind her as the younger goddess waters the hedges. “Those flowers you keep in your little corner,” Persephone says, “Hades tells me they were a gift from Zagreus?”

“They were.” Nyx smiles, a bit wistfully. “He commissioned them without warning, one night when I was attending to other business, and they startled me when I returned, but they made me think of you. They have brought me more joy than I foresaw.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“They are.”

“You’ve raised him to be so thoughtful, Nyx. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Mm.” Nyx thinks of the young prince. “I do not believe that I am solely to thank for his upbringing. Achilles has shaped him as well, and his father, in his own way. And while I may take some credit for his thoughtfulness, that cannot be fully conflated with his kindness.” She averts her gaze, cupping a pomegranate blossom in her hand. “You know well that I have struggled, in the past, to demonstrate such kindness; to empathize before I think of practical matters. In this regard, I have tried to learn from you, and to treat both the prince and others under my care with tenderness when it is appropriate. But I am not sure that I am the reason that Zagreus learned such an instinctive kindness as he shows to all those he meets.”

“Nyx.” Persephone draws near and takes Nyx by the elbow, looking up into her face. “You have always been so kind to me.”

“Not always,” Nyx disagrees. When the Fates first brought Hades to this realm, her realm; when Zeus, shortly thereafter, deposited Persephone here and the tendrils of light and life that the younger woman inevitably carried with her infiltrated Nyx’s carefully cultivated darkness, upsetting the balance that she had been fighting so hard to maintain—Nyx had been curt, then, and unwelcoming, injured by the implication that her control (already costing her everything) was not enough. If Hades had not been so gruffly dutiful and Persephone so patient and willing to listen, there might have been a clash that tore the Underworld in two. But Nyx is at least observant, and unlike Chaos at their distant remove she has learned to respond to the world around her. Hades and Persephone had helped to shape the Underworld into something that could be controlled. And from the two of them, Nyx learned a little more about interaction, about the subtle skill it takes for a being to exist alongside another being.

Now, tenderly, she touches Persephone’s face. “I know that I was part of what made your adjustment to the Underworld so difficult the first time, my Persephone. I only hope that this time, I have not repeated my old mistakes.”

But Persephone cups her hand over Nyx’s, smiling ruefully. “You haven’t, Nyx, not at all! You’ve been more welcoming than I can say, and you know that I missed you. Our early difficulties, you had already made up for a thousand times by the time I left.”

The Queen’s eyes are honest. Nyx lets herself trust them. “Then, good.”

“Then, good, indeed!” Persephone gives her hand a little squeeze. “Don’t worry so much about ancient history, all right, Nyx? We’ve all changed. I’m not that impulsive young woman anymore, either.”

“No, you aren’t,” Nyx agrees.

“Exactly.” Persephone turns back to her flowers, but he does not release Nyx’s hand; Nyx trails obligingly after her to observe what Persephone is observing. She half-expects the Queen to explain some detail of care for the plants, some task she would like Nyx to perform in her absence. But, instead, a hint of seriousness comes into her voice. “Speaking of impulsivity…. Well, perhaps that isn’t a fair transition. Nyx, I wanted to ask you, what was Zagreus like as a child?”

Nyx looks at her in confusion. “Zagreus, as a child?”

“Yes.” Persephone’s face is as serious as her voice. “I will confess, I am asking with an ulterior motive. Supposing Mother should inquire about her grandson, I don’t want her to catch on that I wasn’t around for his upbringing.”

Nyx feels a pulse of fear, and conceals it. “Ah. You are clever to think ahead of such a possibility,” she says, and Persephone winces in answer. “Do you think that Goddess Demeter would try deliberately to entrap you thus?”

Persephone gives a wry smile. “She may. She used to do so when I was young, catching me in little lies about whether I had spent the night obediently in my bed or gone out running through the fields. Maybe it’s silly, to worry about such things like I’m still a child, but…”

“You know your mother best, my Queen. If this is a concern you have, then I will do all I can to alleviate it. Including telling you stories of Zagreus’s younger days.”

“Thank you, Nyx.”

Nyx hesitates, though, because telling stories cannot be all that she can do. She enfolds Persephone’s hand between both of her own and looks seriously at the goddess of verdure. “To tell the truth, I would prefer not to have to send you back to your mother.”

Persephone looks back solemnly. “I know,” she says. “Hades has said the same, and I know Zagreus is thinking it, too. And I… I don’t mind the idea of reconciling to Mother, but I wish I felt that I had a little more choice in the matter. If she were not holding the mortal world hostage, if Hades didn’t fear that she would start a war over me… well, it’s funny, but I think I’d be more willing to visit her, if that were the case. But I must go. This all started because I seized an opportunity to run away from my problems, and it’s spun out of control for long enough.”

“I understand.” She does not like it, but she understands. “Will you forgive me if I send something along with you, to keep you company and keep you safe?”

A smile comes back to Persephone’s face. “There would be nothing to forgive, Nyx! I would treasure something to remember you by. As for keeping me safe, well… I know what my family is like. We can’t be too careful.”

“Then give me three nights before you depart, and I shall have something for you. But for now…” She draws Persephone over to the bench at the edge of the garden, and they sit down together. “Let me tell you of your son’s youth. There is much to tell, for Prince Zagreus was not always as well-behaved as he is nowadays…”

Busy though the Underworld is, it does not take Nyx the full three nights she requested to fashion her gift for Persephone. She lets the time pass, anyway; darkness seeps into the gift, strengthening its power and Nyx’s connection to it. But she cannot force Persephone to tarry for too long. When the fourth day dawns—after Persephone has said her good-byes to her son and seen him off on another escape attempt—Nyx pulls her aside and places the newest Chthonic Companion into her outstretched hands.

Surprise crosses Persephone’s face as she sees what it is. “A Chthonic Companion, for me? Don’t you think I’m a little old for this?” For a moment, there is severity in her face, and Nyx wonders if she has misstepped, making a stuffed animal for the woman who rejected the name maiden. But then Persephone breaks out into a warm smile. “I’m only joking. It’s adorable, Nyx. It’s a swallow, isn’t it?”

“It is.” A bird whose arrival in the land of Greece above foretells spring. The Companion is made in a red and black that recalls the Queen’s regalia, with a pale wheat-colored belly that matches her hair. Nyx selected the emeralds carefully to reflect Persephone’s beautiful green eyes.

Persephone cups the swallow in her hand, turning it this way and that to admire it. “I always loved swallows. Mother taught me to watch for them when the winter grew too long to bear. I love it, Nyx, thank you. Does she have a name yet? A fable?”

“Not yet.”

“Is it all right if I come up with all of that?”

Nyx smiles. “I would be honored.”

“Then when I am lonely for the Underworld and missing you, I will tell myself stories of how Mother Night fits into this little one’s life.” She presses the Companion to her chest and then tucks it into the top of her bag.

Nyx takes her hands and draws her closer to the wall, speaking quietly. “It is not only a keepsake to remind you of me, my Queen. Should you ever feel that you are in danger there on Olympus—”

“I know,” Persephone says. “Zagreus has told me all about how they work when he carries them through his father’s realm. Are you promising to burst into the light in my defense, should my mother and all the rest not treat me with all the respect I deserve?”

“Yes, I am.”

Persephone speaks lightly, but Nyx does not. She did not realize it until the Queen returned to the Underworld, but the truth is that Night Incarnate would gladly start a new war and end it in the same moment if that was what it took to keep Persephone safe.

Seeing the sincerity in Nyx’s eyes, Persephone falters for a moment. Then she squeezes Nyx’s hands tightly. “Let us hope that things do not come to that,” she says.

“I will always hope the same, Persephone.”

And then Persephone releases her hands in order to throw her arms around Nyx. Nyx is startled for a moment—she fears for the propriety of such an embrace here in the formality of the House—but when Persephone does not release her, she returns the gesture, holding Persephone’s head close to her breast. “I will miss you,” she confesses.

“I’ll miss you too, Nyx. You’ll write, won’t you? All the time?”

“Of course I will.”

“I will, too. We’ll give Hermes quite a workout, ferrying our letters back and forth.”

“I am sure he will appreciate the opportunity.”

They stay like that a moment longer, until some deep part of Nyx feels something slip ever so slightly out of balance. “You must not keep Charon waiting any longer, my Queen,” she says.

Persephone sighs. “You’re right, of course. Then I’ll go. But I’ll be back this time, Nyx. I swear it.”

“We will all look forward to your return.”

“I will as well. Farewell, Nyx. None of you may forget how much I love you all, you understand? I forbid it.”

Nyx answers with a half-bow, and Persephone leaves through the garden, turning once to make her swallow’s wing wave one last good-bye. And then, as Charon ferries her away, Nyx watches the golden thread of her existence wind its way all the way up to the surface and into the blinding light.

#hades game #hades spoilers #nyx #persephone #nyx (hades game)#persephone (hades game)#1.0 spoilers #tou wrote a thing #again to fly away

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cinnamon-bebe · 5 years ago

Text

Remember Us

(Sebastian x Reader)

Summary: Some mistakes cannot be fixed. A couple must come to terms with their loss.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, bereavement, cheating, mentions of abortions.

(’Re-purposing’ and embellishing an old storyline I had written for a fic years ago)

—————————————————————–

Sebastian

My feeble fingers fumble for the stereo in an attempt to put an end to the miserable love song on the radio but of course, I fail spectacularly, dialing up the volume with all my drunkenness.

“And I wish I could leave my bones

And my skin

And float over the tired, tired sea

So, that I could see you again

Maybe you would leave too

And we’d blindly pass each other

Floating over the ocean blue

Just to find the warm bed of our lover”

Why must the radio torment me tonight?

I try to change the station as I grip onto the steering wheel, I feel my car sway from side to side but it’s fine. There’s no one here, I’m all alone.

I soon come to realise that the music isn’t coming from the radio, rather a CD inside my stereo. Ripping out disc, my bleary eyes make out the name; Gregory Alan Isakov.

She must have forgotten this.

God, I shouldn’t be driving. If my agent knew, she’d be livid but for the sake of my sanity, I couldn’t stay at that PR sham any longer. Seeing all those phoney faces, pretending to be interested. Pretending to be into my hot new co-star, all for the sake of eliciting some publicity for our film. The only thing that made the night bearable, was the endless supply of booze. No doubt the organisers were hoping for the press to catch some drunken antics by the bevy of celebrities; we’ve got a movie to sell, all publicity is good publicity right? And I almost succumbed to it if it wasn’t for Maddie, physically holding me back from taking another swig straight from the champagne bottle. I was being every agent’s nightmare and she wasn’t afraid to tell it to my face. In fact, she ordered me straight into the men’s room to “fix myself up” before I dare make another appearance back at our table. She probably thinks I’m still in there.

I remember now. She used to love this album.

I throw the disc onto the empty seat next to me, as the house finally comes to view. I pull up on the side of the road; the lights are off, she’s not home.

The deafening silence in the car hurts. I feel my brain trying to sober me up but my mind just isn’t ready yet. I fall back against the headrest, my hands on the wheel to steady myself, to keep my head from spinning.

She’s usually home by now.

I reach for my phone, hopeful that Y/N had come around and returned one of my calls.

Nothing.

A text from my mother at 3.

A couple of missed calls from Chris at 7.

3 voicemails twenty minutes ago from Maddie; probably figured out I was gone.

My fingers slide over my contact list until it finds a familiar number, one I have hesitated to call lately after our last encounter but I guess, the alcohol is fuelling some sort of blind courage tonight.

“Hello?”

“Liv? It’s me…Seb.” I slur. I figure the louder I speak the more comprehensible I would sound.

“Wow, you have some nerve don’t you? Did I not make myself clear last time?”

I wince at the hostility in her voice.

“Is Y/N with you? She’s not picking up her phone…I’m outside her house right now.“

“Jesus Christ Sebastian. Just leave her alone okay? She doesn’t need this right now! She doesn’t need you fucking with her head anymore!”

I’m sure Liv is just as sick of me as Y/N.

The last 5 months I have been trying to see Y/N, to tell her how sorry I am, to fix our lives but she’s manage to avoid me in every way imaginable.

Her locks are changed, she no longer frequents the places that we loved and I know she’s taken extra shifts at the hospital, all to avoid seeing me; the pariah.

Liv was my only window to her, to find out how she was doing.

Coping.

After my last attempt to raid Liv’s house for her, she’s cut off all contact from me.

I’m surprised this woman hasn’t hung up yet.

“I just want to know that she’s alright…that’s all I want to know Liv. I miss her.”

I feel as if my entire body is sinking, my shoulders grow heavy and the exhaustion of everything that has happened, all hitting me at once. Blow after blow.

I cry down the phone to her best friend who hates me.

My Olivia.

My Olivia who was always in my corner whenever I fought with Y/N, helped her see past all the stupid shit I’d do, helped her see the rational side of things whenever she had doubts. Liv was our family who had been through it all, seen all our good and plenty of the bad. God knows how many times she intervened to save our relationship.

Seems as though this time, not even Liv can salvage what is left.

The line crackles as she sighs.

“Seb…we both know this is better for Y/N. She needs to move on and you do too.”

“I don’…I can’t. I can’t lose her, not like this. I can fix this.” My cries become uncontrollable, I have ruined the expensive suit I’ve been wearing, if it wasn’t already been marred by the stench of booze.

“Seb. There’s just nothing you can do. She doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

“Liv please. Help me, I know you can help me.” I regain an inch of control over my sobs, holding onto the last sliver of dignity that I have left.

“How?“ She sighs, exasperated. “How do you expect me to fix… this?”

“Just tell me where she is.”

She pauses, I can hear her contemplating over the line.

“She’s gone on out with someone.“ She says curtly. "She should be back soon but you need to be gone by then.”

Before I could even respond, she hangs up the phone.

Is she seeing someone?

I pull my palms across my face, cleaning myself up as I run through all the possibilities of who Y/N could be out with at this hour.

I adjust myself in my seat. I’ll sit out here for as long as I need.

I have to see her tonight.

—————————————————————————–

Y/N

The car ride home was quiet. I had fiddled with my nails all the way through, scratching out bits of the red varnish I had spent so much time and effort painting on. The air conditioning was blowing directly at me, much to my discomfort but I didn’t want to break the peace and ask for it to be turned off.

It’s fine now. We’re outside my house.

“I had I great time Y/N.” Josh holds my hand, affectionately running his thumb against my skin.

Josh.

Handsome, smart, dependable Josh. Perfect. Just perfect. Which is exactly why I am kicking myself for feeling so miserable this whole night.

I had went all out to pump myself up for this date, even so much as buying a ridiculously expensive dress that I’ll probably never wear again.

We’ve been seeing each other for the past couple weeks, yet I feel nothing. No butterflies. No chemistry.

“Me too.” I lie.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” He begins to stroke my face, my body fighting its urge to flinch.

Slowly, he draws me closer, planting a soft and affectionate kiss on my lips; which I return. A part of me hoping it will ignite some spark but instead, only the desire to push him off and run.

“Good night Josh. I’ll call you tomorrow.” I pull away, hoping he misses the aggrieved expression on my face.

I can tell he is disappointed that I didn’t invite him in but I just can’t. I’m not ready no matter how many times I tell myself I am. It’s been 5 months and the thought of having another man in my house still makes my stomach turn.

I give him a final wave as I leave his car. Making my way to my door, my feet drags slowly behind on the pavement, pained from wearing the stilettos I had reserved for special occasions.

From the corner of my eye, I swear I could see a familiar car.

No. My mind must be playing tricks.

I fumble away for my keys as I reach the steps of my porch.

I halt to a stop.

My breath hitches as he emerges from the shadows, gathering himself up from where he was sitting on the floor.

“Y/N.”

His voice. That voice that’s been haunting me, turns me immediately on my heels and sends me running in the opposite direction.

“Y/N!”

He pulls me from behind. I feel myself numb in his arms, his body pressed so tightly against mine as he holds me hostage in the dark.

“Get off Sebastian.” I try to whisper, remain as calm as my mind would allow. The last thing I want is to wake my neighbours and invite them to this little peep show.

“I want to talk to you Y/N. Please.” He’s been drinking, I can smell it from his pores.

“Get off.” I try to turn myself around, facing him so I could push his heavy chest away.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

“Just get off!” I begin hitting him, smacking him hard in the torso. Even just an inch between us would allow me to escape.

“We can work through this, it’s us.“

I refuse to respond.

"It’s us.” He cries, dropping his arms from around me, finding my hands instead. He rests his forehead against mine, his tears hot on my cold skin.

I upset the moment pushing him one last time. His reflexes falter causing him to stumble, permitting me to break away.

“Y/N!”

I harshly jerk from his clasp, ignoring him clamouring after me. I rush to my door with the keys shaking in my hands.

“Will you just talk to me? Please!” He gets angry with me.

The audacity.

I ignore him again, trying my best to get my hands to function, to get the key in.

“You think you’re the only one hurting Y/N?”

The keys drop from my hands, along with my every chance to get away, hitting the wooden slabs of my porch with a loud thud.

“GOD!” I scream. At him. At myself. I stare at my keys sitting so helplessly on the floor, as I fall down myself.

How have I become so weak?

I no longer recognise what I have become, what we have become.

I have spent every ounce of my energy trying to recover some form of normalcy back in my life, convincing my friends, myself, that everything is fine, that my world isn’t falling apart. I try so hard but I can never fool myself. The world can see right through me, no matter how much I force that smile.

“Y/N.“ Sebastian collapses beside me, tugging at my arm. "Look at me, please.” He grabs my wrist, propping my hands against his pain ridden face.

"I know I can’t do things over, I can’t change what happened but we can overcome this. W-we can make it through the other side.”

I sit motionless in his arms.

The night is dark, so dark it seems we were exiled from the world. It must be 2, 3 am in the morning by now, not a decibel disturbing the street.

Sebastian starts to relax his hold on me, I can feel him slowly sobering up as he rests his head on my lap, his face nestled close to my stomach. The vitality we once had has drained out of us, our lifeless vessels too weak to go on.

I look down at him, his eyes are closed as he murmurs inaudible words into my abdomen.

“We lost the baby.” I whispered.

“I know.”

The reality of those words cut me in a million ways. I have never dared utter those words out loud, too afraid to speak the truth into existence.

“I did this, didn’t I? I made you lose the baby.” Sebastian looks up at me, his eyes vacant; dying.

I can’t find the will to respond.

I’ve spent so long placing the blame on him, why is it suddenly so hard to say it out loud now?

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x reader #imagines #marvel #Bucky Barnes #fanfic #chris evans #anthony mackie #not my gif #remember us

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wammys-house-a · 5 years ago

Text

Page 853 -- Disappearing Act

Awake; 4:22. My day began in darkness.

The tips of my fingers guide me to the nightstand, polished wood and still air. Golden splitters of dust. Dying shadows transform every surface to velvet – a space between slick and rough, hard and soft.

My consciousness floating just at the surface of sleep, anesthetizing the ever present panic of dawning adulthood to a dull terror living at the back of my mind. But, my senses remain ripe with promise of touch starved sensitivity. It's only four steps to his bed through my fingers.

I walk the pale line - bleeding in through the curtains, stencils of the trees like black veins, weaving over his side like the guiding lines for my fingers.

I hoard his warmth for my own cold, shivering body like the pulse of August and crawl in, pressing his essence into my senses so he can fill me up... Folded into the sheets, his scent and heat are magnified, igniting a flame, snuffing me out with careful caresses like damp fingers to the wick.

Relief

His slumber soaked skin pressed against my mine like warm cream, silky and melting. My mind drifts between hynagogic mirage and the wet pressure. My grasp on certainty begins loosening, ebbing with the jerking movements of my body, breaking paralysis in response to freefall and unquenched ecstasy. My jaw aches with restraint. The tips of my teeth hover between release and pressing dents into his flesh as a surge courses through me. Everything beyond the bed becomes ethereal, I don't know who I am or that it matters.

Deliriously free - of myself . Parts of me are coming unwound, being touched in ways only achievable through sex or surgery. This excision of self is too gentle. Melding into sensation, our boundaries become imperceptible, I cannot find where I end and he begins.

I've disappeared again.

— 11: 22

Don't scream

I worry a lapse of conscientious effort may cause a collapse and all my pretenses will come apart at the seams.

What then...?

Maybe my sanity would be in question.

But, it's the self castigation I'm most afraid of. Then, I would hide and hope I might be forgotten but not discarded — try only to emerge in the dead of night, like a specter in my own home.

I'm pathetic.

I know a crack in the veneer wouldn't rank among even the hundreds-of-thousands of the worst possible things I could do. But, of all people I've met, I've been the least forgiving of myself.

... Maybe it's because I have to live with all the mistakes I make or because I am incapable of giving myself the benefit of the doubt, when I'm someone who's motives I can have no doubts of.

This masochistic criticism does me no good.

But, I know the path from believing everyone knows to they're right and I'm an impostor, is steeper than I can yet appreciate... But, fear isn't where the urge to scream comes from.

— It comes from y o u

Y o u have cornered me, interrupting my ritual of anxiously darting from dining hall to seclusion. Forcing me to hold my sinews tight enough to forget where I was going.

"... I'm Alternative. Pleased to meet you."

Not a single word of that feels honest.

This feels like a robbery, handing over this identity as a courtesy to complete strangers to avoid the threat of looking impolite.

I just wish you had the sense to know when someone wanted nothing but tight lipped acknowledgement in passing. I don't understand what it was about my hastful gate that signalled your invitation.

... I know you don't understand.

For me, this is an act of mutilation. I am cutting away parts of myself to fit a mold, to perform a role I don't know I want, put on a skin that I don't know that I recognize anymore.

Somewhere between when you knew I existed but before I gave you this name, I was true to myself and now I am invisible.

Alternative hangs around my neck like an indictment and I don't want to be defined by him anymore, I don't want him to be in every corner, leaving me nowhere to exist.

You're a pretty girl... I know that must follow you around too, there are parts of your world where how people perceive you has nothing to do with you, everything to do with what isn't in your control, wasn't your choice. It isn't who you are, and I wonder if it frustrates you too.

In these moments, I fantasize about reaching into my throat and tearing out my larynx, it creaking, popping like styrofoam from a tight box.

Then, I couldn't regret anything else.

I couldn't sell myself at a discount.

Not to anyone. Not ever again.

— 1:27

At the mirror, he's putting on L's face.

For me, a quiet eulogy.

For him, a Monday afternoon.

I've stopped battling the body I'm living in.

Tired of being told what to be ashamed of.

Told what mutilation will enhance my value.

Body, I'm trying so hard to coexist with you in peace... but I struggle to assimilate us into one whole being. I've come to recognize that I'll never tame you. Your blind nature can't be negotiated with and I can't make you mine by forcing you into a war I can't win. But, letting nature reclaim you... brings the faces of my parents to the surface, and I feel haunted by ghosts only I can see. Then, you don't feel like you belong to me anymore.

I worry what he sees too, the more I let go of control... Your immutable lineage, savages running fugitive through my blood, strangers that spat Psalms over slick guillotines and slid slender fingers over Berthier's — I'll never escape it... it's whispered in the lines of my body and the slopes of my speech. I worry he will always see....

something o t h e r about me.

But, I know I can never fix you, I can never domesticated you You're a home I don't ask for

I can't own. I can't master

I can't maintain

I cannot leave ...

I know

One day, I'll be free of it.

Of you.

Then it will be too soon, too late.

Whoever I am now, won't be here to appreciate the broken chains, the broken bonds, all the broken promises I made that one day we would make peace.

But the hands that tenderly unlaced us this morning, released our boundaries, are now drawing a brush across skin to hide all traces of someone I knew in childhood.

The echos of a history only I know, because I was there, vanish beneath a shallow vale like innocence in reverse. I can't reconcile that the hands that draw me up are capable of digging a grave, but I am witnessing it as the face I recognize fades beneath the layers of ash and dust...

There are so many ways

To hide a body .

#death note #death note a #a (death note)#beyond birthday #wammys house #Entries

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nadziejastar · 6 years ago

Note

You seem sure that Birth by Sleep Volume 2 not being made heavily damaged the story. Do you think it would have been possible to salvage things?

The short answer is yes. I wrote about BBSV2 here more in-depth. Without it? No. Definitely not.There were a TON of plot lines left to resolve. It seems like that game was supposed to be the one to set them all up before KH3 offered the final resolution. BBSV2 wasn’t meant to be a spin-off nor simply a sequel to BBS. It was a crucial part of the timeline that had its plot threads set up many years in advance. The question of Apprentice Xehanort’s ability to wield a Keyblade was brought up all the way back in KH2! Xemnas was intentionally not using a Keyblade. You can’t just cancel an entire game’s worth of story out of the blue and still expect to offer any sense of resolution. I think that is the main reason why KH3 had such a terrible story.

I still think there were other factors that would have been at play even if BBSV2 hadn’t been cancelled. Though they’d definitely be less egregious. I do think there was a strong push by both Square and Disney to make the game as “mainstream” as possible. I think that’s a big reason why KH3′s story is so overly simplified, in addition to the cancelled game. Nomura mentioned that the Keyblade Graveyard sections were restricted to the minimum necessary to move Sora forward. Otherwise there would have been “too much story" (*eyeroll*). And I have no reason to believe that was limited to the Keyblade Graveyard.

KH3′s Biggest Problem: The Irrelevant Power of Waking

“Believing light and darkness must remain in balance, Master Xehanort seeks to spark war against the ‘tyranny of light’ to restore equilibrium.In an effort to undermine Xehanort’s plot, Sora, Donald and Goofy search for seven guardians of light and the “Key to Return Hearts,” while King Mickey and Riku search for previous Keyblade wielders.”

—Kingdom Hearts III press release

I believe that is one of the reasons that the Power of Waking was all but eliminated from the story and gameplay. That would certainly be a lot of story that would need to be “streamlined”. The higher-ups probably thought diving into the hearts of characters broke up the pacing too much, and it wouldn’t be seen as fun from a gameplay perspective. I disagree, of course. But it clearly didn’t make the cut. Not to mention it’s pretty convoluted from a story standpoint. But in my opinion, this is the biggest problem with the whole story, and the root cause of most of the other issues.

Ansem the Wise says to Aqua “Everything is born from sleep.” What does this mean?

Nomura: In that scene the ones who are calling for “Sora” are the ones who have already disappeared from the world. But in the world of KH there is no concept of death, that for example they are just sleeping within Sora’s heart. If you can just wake them up, they’ll be able to return to the world, they would be “born from sleep”. That there would be a possibility of this, is what Ansem the Wise is saying. Even Aqua, who isn’t in the realm of light, would be born from sleep. In that case, do the characters we see in that scene have a chance of returning?

Nomura: Yes. The data that Ansem has hidden within Sora is the secret to that revival. When Ansem had become DiZ, and studied the heart and emotions, the results he found he hid within Sora. There are a lot of people who thought that Coded was about finding those results, but that’s not true. The ending of Coded was about finding out that DiZ had done something to Sora, as Namine said, finding out about the data that Ansem hid. What that data is will be revealed in the next game.

Learning the Power of Waking was supposed to be the entire plot of KH3. The whole concept of the Guardians of Light was set up ages ago. And so was the idea of sleeping (Birth by Sleep) and dreaming (Dream Drop Distance). The “next game” referred to was actually supposed to be BBSV2!

Speaking of the Birth by Sleep secret cutscene, Ansem the Wise says that he hid his research results in Sora. This complies with what happens in Re:Coded when Namine says DiZ (Ansem the Wise) has hid something inside Sora. Is that mystery remaining unsolved?Nomura: Yes. Namine added data to the Jiminy Journal in order to convey that the “pain” of those connected to Sora must be healed, but at the point in time Ansem hid the research results inside Sora, he didn’t know that. Accordingly, Ansem’s research results will become the key to healing the “pain” in the future of the story.

It was the whole purpose of Sora and Riku’s Mark of Mastery exam. They needed this power to bring back the missing Guardians of Light. It was the whole reason for Re:Coded’s existence. Namine wanted to let Sora know about the pain of the memories connected to his heart. And it was about learning that Ansem put data in Sora’s heart. This data was the key to healing the pain in the future of the story.

Secret Report 3: Experiments of the Heart – Notes on Subject X, Excerpt 1

After his initial experiments on me, Ansem the Wise ceased his research into the heart, his hand stayed by some fear I cannot fathom. Yet this new subject is like me: devoid of memories. She is the perfect sample upon which to continue my master’s work. She, too, could benefit from it; by traversing the heart, we have a direct path into memory. I myself have begun to reclaim my lost past thanks to these very experiments.

And Ansem’s initial research was all about the heart and its connection to memory.

Though he’s a member of Organization XIII, Axel is shown in the end of Re:Coded in the memories of “pain”…Nomura: Since healing the necessary “pain” of Axel’s is different than with other people, if he is revived he will take a form like Xehanort’s. In the end of the story, Namine says, “Those whose memories are sleeping inside Sora need relief.” In the Birth by Sleep secret cutscene “Blank Points”, certain characters call out to Sora, however in that scene Axel is the only one who appears and doesn’t say Sora’s name out loud.

Axel was different, because if he was revived he’d take a form like Xehanort’s? Doesn’t that imply that some of the others wouldn’t take a form like Xehanort’s when they’re revived? Yeah, that’s exactly what he was saying. That’s because Roxas and Xion were supposed to be revived and get their stories resolved through the heart’s connection to memory.

Ven and Kairi would get their memories, since their hearts were always one. Memory is one of the biggest themes in the series. Xion’s whole character revolved around it. So did Axel’s. And Ven/Roxas both suffer amnesia. Kairi doesn’t remember her past. Subject X had amnesia, too. And of course, as I’ve said a million times before…Subject X was Isa. Basically, all the fundamental characters in 358/2 Days had one thing in common. “Memory”.

Before the ending, Riku receives research data from Ansem the Wise. In the next title, will that be the key to bringing back the people who are sleeping inside Sora?

Nomura: You could say it’s the key. That data contains the details explaining the way to connect lost hearts.

If you take all that out, what do you have left except a bunch of sequel-baiting and shallow fanservice DLC-bait? The entire story was absolutely destroyed. In KH3, it felt like Sora just wandered around aimlessly the entire time, learning nothing. It was SO boring. The Disney worlds felt like filler. Then the plot just happened to him at the very end, without any help from his end. No wonder Nomura doesn’t like Sora anymore. He sucked in KH3.

The shenanigans with the replicas was SO stupid and nonsensical. They cut out an entire game that was supposed to delve into Ansem’s research results that he put inside of Sora’s heart. This was supposed to be about what the Power of Waking is, and how to actually use it. When KH3 released, everyone was so confused about what the hell the Power of Waking is…even after they beat the game. That is truly some BAD storytelling, right there.

After this, it seems Sora and Riku will be taking their Mark of Mastery Exams. Does this have a direct relation to curing the “pain” of those connected to Sora?Nomura: No, those are two separate stories. I’m thinking Kingdom Hearts III will be about going to cure their “pain”. I plan on drawing out the story of those two’s Mark of Mastery Exams in another title.

Again, this was the whole point of KH3. Healing all the characters’ pain. Helping them face their fears. Awakening their sleeping hearts from an eternal dream. Giving them a “birth by sleep”. The game was teased as BBSV2, not because it was a sequel to the original BBS. But because this concept of “birth by sleep” was not finished being explored.

The press release for KINGDOM HEARTS III unveiled by Square Enix discusses the search for the “Key to Return Hearts.” Is there anything you can tell us about that?

Nomura: There are two possible meanings of the “key.” One of which is the “hardware” key, which opens doors - this is what keys are in general (laughs), and the other is the “light” key, that opens something else. In this case, it is currently unknown as to which type of key Sora must find. This is the main storyline of KINGDOM HEARTS III - Sora must go on an adventure to find the “key” without knowing what or where it is. But as you know, we can’t really say anything else on the subject (laughs).

It’s all about the power of love and light.

Ansem: You called out my name. You have been thinking about me… You’re afraid of the darkness I command. Good… The more you think of me, the closer my return draws. And when I have awoken, I will take hold…Your heart will be mine!

Riku and Mickey’s entire relationship dealt with this idea. Mickey was his light in the dark in Castle Oblivion. He protected him when Ansem almost took control over him. He was able to ease Riku’s pain as his only companion for a long time.

Riku: There’s no point in doing this if I can’t do it on my own. But I do need a favor. If Ansem is the victor, he’s going to enslave me. If that happens, use your powers to destr—

Mickey: O'course! I’ll be right there to save ya!

Riku: Huh? No that’s not it. I want you to destr—

Mickey: No way! No matter what happens, I’m gonna be right there to help ya. I promise ya that. Unless…you don’t believe I’ll come through for ya…

Riku: I choose to believe in you—always, Your Majesty.

Mickey: And I in you. You’re not gonna lose, I know it.

Riku: Thanks.

Mickey made Riku a promise to save him if Ansem ever got the better of him. He was his biggest supporter whenever Riku struggled with the darkness inside of him.

Mickey: Wow! No wonder the music sounded like so much fun. But I bet he’s got you to thank for that. Having such a good friend means he could really enjoy it.

Riku: Huh?

Mickey: It’s like each of you is holding on to a little part of the other. Your hearts are always in tune, so they’re free to sing. Gosh, I hope I can be part of the team someday.

Riku: You will. Trust me.

KH3D foreshadowed Riku being Mickey’s light, too.

Riku: After allowing darkness into my heart, am I still fit to wield the Keyblade? Even after locking you away, here you are, haunting me again. So I get it now. There’s no point in trying to hold the darkness back.

Ansem: At last, you see clearly.

Riku: You know…when I look at you…there’s this memory that flashes back. A secret I said I’d keep when I was little. The main reason I kept dreaming about seeing the outside world…was ‘cause of him.

After this, Riku fights Chernabog in the darkness, with Young Xehanort present. His battle with darkness was NOT supposed to be over yet.

Quasimodo: Master Frollo–he made me live inside the bell tower, but the real walls were the ones I built around my heart. You helped me see that, Riku.

Riku: I was…speaking from…personal experience.

Phoebus: I’d say you still keep a lot locked inside.

Even Phoebus could tell that he still had issues. And furthermore, “Ansem” was a possessed Terra! Riku could sense it. But KH3 never even finished his arc with Ansem/Terra.

Terra: Light… Was I guided here in order to meet that boy?

In the Dark Realm, they talked about the promise Riku made to protect the things that matter. Riku’s light drew Terra there in the first place. Then the subject is dropped. Why won’t Riku tell anyone he met Terra before!? They are desperately searching for him! Shouldn’t Terra be, ya know, important to Riku’s arc in KH3?

Terra: In your hand, take this key. So long as you have the makings, then through this simple act of taking… its wielder you shall one day be. And you will find me, friend– no ocean will contain you then. No more borders around, or below, or above, so long as you champion the ones you love.

Terra said to champion the ones you love. So can someone tell me why the heck Riku Replica is even here again, lol? What does he have to do with ANY of this? And why do all the characters get randomly knocked unconscious all the time? Because they were supposed to be using the Power of Waking. Maybe both Riku and Mickey attempted it on Terra or Aqua and failed? It seems like they were supposed to be each others’ light in KH3, successfully rescuing each other. Riku protects the thing that matters: his friend Mickey.

Ansem: Sora was the only one able to return to his human form without destroying his Nobody. That is a statement to the love in his heart for other people, and the bonds that tie them together.

Sora was special, according to Ansem. His love for other people, that is. He connected with Ven’s heart even before he met him. He saw his light shining in the distance. All the Disney worlds Sora visited were supposed to prepare him for gaining the Power of Waking. And not just the ones in KH3, either.

Phil: Look, bein’ a hero takes more than just muscle. Ya gotta have heart and care about people.

Ven has been to Herc’s world before. So has Roxas. And that SHOULD have been relevant in KH3. After visiting this world in KH3, Sora adamantly insists that he’ll be the one to save Aqua. But Sora still doesn’t know how to use the Power of Waking. It’s really Ven speaking through him.

Aqua: You want to be a hero too, right? Strength alone won’t make you into one.

Herc: I know, I know. Strength alone won’t make me a true hero. I’m starting to figure that out. I look at you and Zack, and I can tell there’s something more.

Aqua: You’ve got strength in your heart, too. Never stop trying, and one day you might just become a true hero after all.

Unlike Sora, Ven actually met Herc before he was a true hero. Now he has to go into the Underworld to save someone, just like Herc did. And Herc was radiating light due to his love for Meg.

Hercules: I owe you one, Hades. I didn’t hesitate to give my life for Meg’s. And then, I remembered: A true hero is measured by the strength of his heart. I’ll never forget that again.

He became a true hero only after saving Meg. It showed true strength of heart, like Aqua told him. Ven’s heart inside of Sora remembers all this. It inspired him. And so, with Ven inside of him, Sora can use the Power of Waking on Aqua.

Aqua: It’s the power of true love that defeated you.

Maleficent: I will not be defeated by something as insignificant as love.

Aqua: You don’t even know the first thing about it. You’re too clouded by darkness to see that there’s something greater.

She was trapped in the Underworld after diving in to save someone she loved. Just like Herc and Meg. The last night they shared together was under the light of the same stars. Now Ven finally saves her under the light of the sun.

Aqua: Ven. What did you come here to tell me? I know I promised to wake you up. I’m sorry. But I have to find a way home before I can help you. I just want you to know that it’s been you that keeps my heart strong. Keeps the dark away.

Aqua made Ven a promise. And the Disney movie that inspired their subplot was Snow White. She had a pure heart of light. The love the dwarves had for Snow White inspired them to not bury her. This allowed her to be kissed and woken up by the prince.

Yen Sid: Just as long as you love him…then Ventus will be able to find you when he wakes. He can follow that love back to where he belongs–the realm of light.

Ven is like Snow White. He has a pure heart of light. And Eraqus, Aqua and Terra were like the dwarves. They didn’t give up on him after Xehanort left him with them, even when it seemed like he’d never wake up. And he miraculously did wake up.

Ven: Gimme a break, Aqua.

Aqua: Ven, you hopeless sleepyhead. You know you should have at least brought a blanket.

Ven: But– Did I dream that place up? It really felt like I’d been there before…looking up at the stars…

Aqua successfully brings him back by doing what Yen Sid said. She loved him. And he followed her love back to the realm of light.

Sora: Gimme a break, Kairi.

Kairi: Sora, you lazy bum. I knew that I’d find you snoozing down here.

Sora: No! This huge, black THING swallowed me up! I couldn’t breathe! I couldn’t–Ow!

Kairi: Are you still dreaming?

Sora: It wasn’t a dream! Or was it? I don’t know.

The scene with Aqua was important. It was meant to foreshadow the Power of Waking. Kairi wakes Sora up from his dream, just like Aqua was supposed to wake Ven from his dream. In canon Aqua just gets knocked unconscious. Wow, such amazing storytelling…

Ven: Y'ever wonder what what stars are? Where light comes from?

Aqua: Hmm… Well, they say–

Terra: That every star up there is another world. Yep, hard to believe there are so many worlds out there besides our own.The light is their hearts, and it’s shining down on us like a million lanterns.

Ven: What? I don’t get it.

Terra: In other words, they’re just like you, Ven.

This is so obviously foreshadowing as well.

Ven: What does THAT mean?

Terra: You’ll find out someday, I’m sure.

Ven: I wanna know now.

Terra: You’re too young to know now.

Ven: Quit treating me like a kid.

Aqua jokes that they’re like brothers after this. Terra even has a flashback of this scene when he sees Tinkerbell’s light.

Axel: I’m not feeling it, Roxas.

Roxas: C'mon, try again. Believe me on this, Axel!

Axel: Okay… I believe you.

Axel: I can fly… I can fly!?

Roxas: You can fly.

Roxas and Axel bond in Neverland, too. They fly together using Tink’s light. Axel gets in touch with his lost inner child thanks to Roxas. He remembers how to believe. All you need to do to keep someone from fading away is to believe in them. Axel was there for Roxas when he was confused and alone. He looks to Axel as a brother, like Ven did with Terra. Peter Pan fit the “lost boys” theme of KH.

Ventus has loved Terra like a real brother ever since he let him keep his old wooden Keyblade. It seems we have found a loose thread at which we can tug to unravel Ventus’s heart. The first step is to get Terra alone; then we need to plant the seeds of doubt in Ventus. Let him carry his faint light as he chases his brother into the darkness.

The WINNER popsicle stick is a lot like the wooden keyblade. Axel used to eat sea salt ice cream with Isa. But Isa was possessed by Xehanort. They used to be inseparable, but now Axel is all alone and without a best friend. Roxas eases his loneliness and takes Isa’s place for a while.

Lea meets Ven by picking up the wooden keyblade, right after Terra said Ven couldn’t come with him. Ven promised to be there for Terra, but he was left all alone. Axel takes the place of his big brother for a while. Roxas left Axel in a similar manner that Terra left Ven. Both of these objects symbolically get left behind as well. They’re brotherly mementos.

Talking to Roxas and Xion always brings back memories of my human life, back when I was a kid. It’s a weird sensation. I ought to be able to share all this with Saïx, but I just don’t feel like it anymore. It’s strange, but I’m content with just missing what’s gone. I’m not the one who changed. You did.

For some reason, people get really pissed off at me when I say that Roxas and Ventus were originally supposed to be the same character. I really don’t understand why. I’m just pointing out that it’s what ALL the evidence points to. I mean, Nomura didn’t just randomly decide to make them identical for no reason. Roxas bonded with Axel like Ven did with Terra. And Ven reminded Axel of his past and what having a heart felt like. He reminded Axel of Isa. It’s what the whole game was about. They were supposed to inspire each other to learn the Power of Waking eventually.

No. XIII ROXAS

A boy, newly aware of himself. His light shines as bright and brief as the setting sun.

Ven kept his heart of light even when he became Roxas.

Sora: Isn’t that…Baymax’s heart?

Hiro: It’s okay. Baymax is here. I…should be the one.

Big Hero 6 was all about Hiro and his brother. Baymax was the memento he left behind. Even though Hiro’s brother died, their bond allows Baymax’s heart to be brought back to life. Hayner was also like a brother to Roxas. The trophy gem was their brotherly memento. But it was lost after Riku stole his pouch in KH2. But he doesn’t need it. Hayner is in his heart. Roxas looks into the light of the sunset and remembers his brother.

Ven: Take me with you!

Terra: I can’t do that, Ven.

Ven: Why not?

Terra: I just– When I really need you, Ven, I know you’ll be there.

Ven: Well, why wouldn’t I? You’re my friend.

Terra: Yeah. You’re right. Thanks, Ven.

Ven wants to trade stories with Terra as he looks at the light of the stars. He knows he’ll keep his promise. Especially after reuniting with Axel, reborn as Lea, who also used to look at the light of the sunset with him. Ven loves Terra like a true brother. It was the loose thread in his heart, according to Xehanort.

Axel: I guess the closest thing we Nobodies have got is our past.

And Lea loves Isa. I already did a whole meta on Lea and Isa being based off of Beauty and the Beast. The whole idea was that the Beast couldn’t bear to lose the rose. This was brought up on Day 150 ~Fear~. Axel said his memories of the past were what he couldn’t bear to lose. That’s his weakness, according to Xaldin. Just like Terra was Ven’s weakness. Why else would they deliberately parallel Axel to the Beast like this?

Belle: Please–you must stop doing this. It’s too much. If something were to happen to you…I don’t know what I’d…

Beast: Belle… I couldn’t bear to see you…or the others hurt. A master protects his castle… I don’t want to lose you.

Belle: I’m right here…

On Day 171 ~Love~ it’s revealed that the Beast actually can’t bear to lose Belle—NOT the rose.

Axel: Love is what happens if there’s something really special between two people.

Roxas: You mean, like, if they’re best friends?

Axel: Well, you can care about your friends, I guess, but that’s not what I’m talking about.

Later that day, Roxas asks Axel about love and it sounds suspiciously like he was talking about a best friend that he used to have.

Axel: You know, memories of the stuff we couldn’t bear to lose, back when we couldn’t bear to lose it.

Sure, the memories are important. But it’s the person he couldn’t bear to lose even more.

Terra: Strength for what?

Riku: To protect the things that matter. You know, like my friends.

Who actually thinks Axel was talking about literal “things” when he said that? The “things” that matter are people. That’s what Riku said under the light of the sunset.

So, in ‘The King Departs’, when Yen Sid said ‘great sorcerers and fairies have hastened the flow of time in a different place for you’…

Nomura: Upon request, those who can manipulate time, Merlin and the three fairies who appeared in KH2, changed the flow of time in a special place, and there Lea received hastened training in order to be able to use the Keyblade, basically. In the original scenario, we had planned to have Lea able to use the Keyblade when he ran to Sora.

Lea said he was supposed to swoop in with keyblade in hand to help Sora. And Nomura said that’s exactly what happened in the original scenario. But they changed it to have him awaken his keyblade after coming back. Why is that? Because his heart needed to protect the things that matter. Champion the ones he loves. It was after he found out Isa was a vessel. Then his heart awakened the Flame Liberator. As the Organization was disappearing, Riku stared down Young Xehanort while Lea stared down Isa.

Xion: Riku. What do you wish?

Riku: More questions… All right… I wish…to recover something important that I lost.

And again we see the red light of the sunset when Xion asks about what Riku wishes. Of course, it’s to recover something important that was lost. But not a thing. A person. Sora! Axel was always looking into the sunset because he longed to recover something important he lost. But not a thing. A person. Isa!

Roxas: You made us a promise.

Axel: I did?

Roxas: That you’d always be there…to bring us back.

Axel: Yeah…

Roxas: Got it memorized?

Axel: Best friends forever.

He woke up after dreaming about Roxas, and immediately went to look for Isa. Ven and Lea both had promises to keep to their friends. Roxas reminded him of the promises made between best friends.

Xigbar: You’re not supposed to be here!

Lea: Promises to keep. I’ll always be there to get my friends back. What, bad timing?

He says he has a promise to keep, while he was looking for Isa. Then Xehanort uses Isa to attack him. He wouldn’t take off his cloak as he looked into the light of the sunset, because he wants to make himself easy to remember. For ISA. No one is EVER going to convince me that Lea and Ventus just randomly got knocked out during the final battle for no reason. No, they were supposed to be using the Power of Waking on Terra and Isa. If you take Isa out of Lea’s story, what do you even have left? Practically nothing.

Sora: The light in the darkness. It was you. You’re the one who kept me from fading away.

Kairi: All I did was believe that you wouldn’t.

Sora: I feel strong with you, Kairi.

Finally, we see Kairi save Sora at the very end. He would have been lost without her. We probably were supposed to play as KAIRI while collecting Sora’s soul fragments. That would have made a lot more sense. She’s a natural at using the Power of Waking because she’s a Princess of Heart. She’s filled with light. And she loves Sora.

Larxene: So, love has filled both their hearts with light.

And when she saves him, he remembers Rapunzel and Elsa. The other two times Princesses of Heart brought back the person they love with light. That was Kairi’s Disney movie inspiration for KH3. The more empowered Disney Princesses—a welcome departure from before. Kairi was supposed to evolve OUT of being a damsel in distress, for crying out loud!!

And that’s why I think everything that was unable to be resolved in the Xehanort arc is being connected to the next arc…even if it doesn’t feel appropriate. They ran out of time, there was too much corporate interference, and the story was ruined. Now Nomura wants to focus on new characters and new plots. The old plot threads are being lazily recycled into the new arc, with little regard for the effect it had on the Xehanort arc, or how well it fits the new arc. He wants a blank slate to distance himself from the Xehanort plot that got ruined. Of course, I don’t want to give him a free pass.

I do think he stopped giving a shit about KH3′s story at some point. You can sense it through Axel’s dialogue, where he makes fun of “plot points” that need to be resolved. Or how stupid he finds it when he has to explain the Roxas situation to Ventus, which sounds suspiciously like his interview where he said he can’t remember who has met who.

When Jiminy was introducing everyone and getting them up to speed, he thought it was too confusing, so he’d just give everyone a Gummiphone to catch up. That’s when I knew without a doubt that whoever was writing the story didn’t give a fuck. And Nomura was the writer. So, I can’t let him off the hook completely for KH3′s issues. The way Lea and Isa were treated was inexcusable IMO. But the game did not turn out the way it did by design. It was just a fuck up, basically.

#kingdom hearts #anti kh3 #kh theories #kh meta #kh mickey #kh kairi #kh sora #kh ven #kh terra #kh aqua #kh lea #kh isa #kh axel #kh saix

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frizz22 · 6 years ago

Note

Can I have the conversation of Hilda telling Cee she is a witch? Her brining him the steel for the first time. Yes. That one!

Thank you for the prompt! Sorry for the delay, I hope you enjoy, read on ao3

She felt slightly ridiculous, holding a rolling pin in front of her for protection. But Hilda had no idea what Cerberus was, and she meant to keep him in the dark about what she was as well… at least until she got more information.

Cerberus sat uncertainly in front of her, hands held up in surrender. “I owe you an apology and an explanation.” He started carefully, taking a deep breath.

Huffing slightly, Hilda kept her distance. “Bloody right you do.”

“I collect books, rare books. For the store.” Cerberus stated, and Hilda furrowed her brow, not having expected the conversation to begin this way. “And some years ago, I came upon an occult tome.”

Her heart fluttered at the mention of an occult tome. It wasn’t often that witching books fell into the hands of mortals, but when it did occur… well, it was usually a nasty piece of business. The fact that Cerberus was alive after finding, and likely toying with the tome was incredible. His voice brought her back to his story.

“And in this book, there was a… a spell, a spell for conjuring a demon,” he raised his shoulders a little sheepishly, as if to say, who wouldn’t have tried it? He’d likely thought it all in good fun. “I tried it on a lark. Never expected that it would actually work, but…”

The truth dawned on Hilda, “it did.” She breathed, looking at Cerberus sympathetically. “And so, the demon is still inside you?” She asked, voice pitching up a little more than usual.

Cerberus looked at her in relief, that she hadn’t discounted his explanation right off. “Yes. And as insane as it must sound to someone who has no knowledge of the satanic… uh, I’m—” He stuttered a bit, clearly having expected to be hit with her rolling pin already. “I’m possessed by an incubus… that I can’t get rid of.” He looked at her imploringly, “what happened earlier, it… it only happens when my passions are…” Cerberus flushed slightly, “inflamed.” He finished, not meeting her eye.

Hilda swallowed, “so, um, that’s why you didn’t open my valentine?” It all made so much more sense now and it felt as though a weight was lifting off her chest.

“That’s why I cannot be near you anymore, Hilda.” Cerberus corrected, “you excite me too much.” And she could see a color change flare around the irises of his eyes before they returned to normal. “I’m sick, Hilda, and I can’t be cured. And I understand if you want to run for the hills. But the truth is… I love you. But I can’t expect you to love a monster in return.”

She barely managed to suppress a smile at the words, though the corner of her mouth may have ticked up a tad. He hadn’t ignored her phone calls, left her off the schedule and rejected her because he didn’t want her… Cerberus had done those things because he did want her. Satan, she felt giddy.

“You, you love me?” She asked breathlessly, unsure if she’d ever felt this way before. Cerberus looked at her tenderly and nodded, though his lips were pressed together as if he were waiting for her to end things. “Oh, well, um, well then,” she began, hardly able to believe she was about to do this. “I have to tell you something about myself.”

Gingerly setting down the rolling pin, Hilda pulled up a chair and sat across from Cerberus. He took a deep breath in, “Hilda—” He warned, leaning back as though even her proximity were too much for him to handle. Though thrilled by the notion, Hilda scooted the chair back a few inches to make him more comfortable.

“I am, actually, quite knowledgeable about the Satanic.” She blurted, biting her lip. Oh, how had Edward done this? Told Diana about the witching realm? And he hadn’t even had anything to go on, Cerberus at least had exposure, had some inkling.

Taken aback, Cerberus gave her a perplexed look. “Oh, alright…” He paused and waited for her to continue; his hands clasped in his lap.

Worrying the end of her cardigan, Hilda cleared her throat. “I have this knowledge, because, because I’m a witch. A proper one, not like the ones shown in movies. I know all about spells and conjuring and demons and fairies and herbology. And part of being a witch is, is praising our Dark Lord, Satan, for gifting us with these, these powers.” She stopped to gauge his reaction, but aside from wide eyes, Cerberus just nodded, his expression carefully blank.

Nervously, Hilda pressed on. “So, you see, you having a sex demon trapped inside you, well, that’s not so crazy sounding to me.” She managed a feeble smile and twisted her fingers, waiting for him to respond beyond how his brow just furrowed.

After several long moments, Cerberus’ forehead smoothed, and he looked at her questioningly. “So, I could truthfully say… you’ve cast a spell on me?” The joke was weak, and Cerberus’ smile unsure but he wasn’t looking at her in horror or disgust, just curiosity and what might be, relief.

A shaky chuckle escaped Hilda at the comment, and she shook her head. “You believe me then?”

Cerberus made an abortive movement, as though he’d gone to take her hand and then thought better of it. “Of course, Hilda.” He locked eyes with her, and his expression was so sincere Hilda thought her heart might burst. “I just told you I have an incubus inhabiting my body and you didn’t blink an eye. In fact, it looked more like I’d just given you the final piece to a puzzle you’d been working on. Who else but a witch would be so accepting of what I claimed?” He did reach out then and carefully took her hand between his, stroking his thumbs along the back of it tenderly. “I do have a lot of questions, though, if that is alright?”

Hilda beamed at him and couldn’t help but close the distance between them and kiss him chastely, she’d kissed him once before, after the Greendale Thirteen, and they’d been fine… she assumed this would be fine too. “Perfectly alright,” she murmured, pulling back and finding his eyes only slightly changed in color before they reverted back to brown. “As long as I can ask questions too?”

Laughing, Cerberus nodded happily. “I ask one and then you ask one? We go back and forth until we can’t think of any more?”

Well, that had been easier than she thought, Hilda grinned and gripped Cerberus’ hand to lead him to the parlor. There would be more than a few questions, and if they were going to be there a while, they may as well get comfortable.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They’d spent hours talking and they’d had to stop before Cerberus ran out of questions; he’d gotten distracted when Hilda mentioned witches’ extended lifespans and a number of questions followed that particular comment before Cerberus huffed in awe, shook his head and moved on.

He’d had to go tend to the bookstore, but he asked if they could talk again. Stating it was immensely freeing to have someone know and understand his condition, even though it changed nothing between them physically, he felt closer to her than ever before.

After he’d left, Hilda started to research what could be done to remedy the incubus problem, no way in Heaven was she going to let something like a sex demon get in the way. Zelda’s information on Damascus steel, combined with her own findings, helped Hilda devise a way to bind the demon currently inhabiting Cerberus.

With luck, it would tame the beast and allow Cerberus to maintain control in, in all circumstances. Proud of her solution, Hilda sought Cerberus out at the bookstore about a week after their discussion (it’d taken her some time to procure the steel and ready it for use).

Unlocking the door with her keys, Hilda shut the door behind her and relocked it, turning to find Cerberus hurrying around the corner. “We’re close—, oh, Hilda!” His face transformed, joy filling his eyes and a smile spreading across his face. “What are you doing here so late? Is everything alright?” He approached her, looking concerned.

She’d had no choice but to inform him of some of the dangers in the witching realm, though he was familiar with them to an extent. Shaking her head, Hilda took his hand and squeezed. “Everything is lovely, Cerb,” she reassured him, and he visible relaxed and squeezed her hand in return. “In fact, I think I found a solution to your incubus.”

He pulled away from her at the reminder of his demon, afraid that mentioning it might bring it to the surface—though that was the case for some demons, it wasn’t for incubi; Cerberus had been correct in deducing it only came out when his ‘passions were inflamed’. Looking at her warily, Cerberus took several steps back. “Hilda, I don’t want to put you in danger. I can’t stand the thought of what I might do if the incubus is set free.”

“No, Cerb, this,” she pulled the bracelet out of her purse and held it out to him. “This will bind the demon, keep him from taking control, for as long as you wear it.” Cerberus hesitantly took the ring of metal and examined it. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come up with a way to banish the demon completely.” Hilda grimaced a little, taking the bracelet back and carefully taking ahold of his arm to slide the band on. “With other types of demons, it’s possible, but incubi are unique and cannot be banished using any means I could find.”

But Cerberus didn’t appear to hear her final words, he was turning his forearm, inspecting the bracelet with awe.

“How does it feel?” She asked, a little anxiously, when he brought his eyes back to hers.

Smiling softly, Cerberus brought a hand up to cup her cheek. “Let’s see,” he murmured, bending slightly to kiss her, his free hand wrapping around her to settle warmly against the middle of her back to draw her closer to him.

Hilda sighed and melted into the kiss, arms coming up to encircle his neck to keep him close. It’d been ages since she’d kissed a man, but Hilda knew for certain it’d never felt like this, not in all her decades. When they broke, they were both grinning like idiots. “That,” Hilda giggled, “that wasn’t quite what I meant.” She clarified breathlessly, “I meant does it fit alright. But, how, how did it feel? Does it work?”

A low chuckled escaped Cerb and he stroked his thumb over her cheek, the other still holding her firmly against him. “Well, it fits perfectly.” He grinned, glancing at the bracelet again. “And I knew it worked the moment you put it on, or I never would have risked kissing you.” The comment sent another sort of warmth shooting through Hilda, one entirely different from the one his kiss and touch created. “The demon, it, it feels like, like an afterthought now. Something that is there, but I can ignore.” He kissed her again in his enthusiasm and Hilda smiled into the kiss, unable to help herself.

“I’m so glad it works,” she managed when they pulled apart once more, her fingers curling in his hair.

The look he gave her then was a little overwhelming, in the best way, it was filled with love and admiration and desire and Hilda found herself wanting to be looked at like that all the time. “Thank you, Hilda, I thought,” he dropped his gaze then and held her a little tighter. “I thought I’d never be able to hold anyone I cared about again, let alone kiss them. Especially not an incredible woman like you. And now,” Cerb examined the bracelet once more and smiled. “Thank you. For believing me, for helping me, for accepting me, demon and all. I love you.”

There were those words again. And they sent her heart racing. Tipping up onto her toes, Hilda kissed him again. “I love you too,” she whispered, joy radiating through her at the admission.

Cerb’s face lit up and he swooped her into a hug and carried her further back into the store. Hilda laughed and pressed her face into his neck as he moved, thinking it wouldn’t hurt to test the bracelet just a bit more.

#caos #Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #hilda spellman #dr cerberus #dr cee #hilda x dr cee #Zelda Spellman #writing prompt #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #ao3fic #netflix #fluff

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fortey · 5 years ago

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Kyoku’s Dance

The sun hadn’t risen yet, and most of the other guards were snoring loudly. A noise that turned out to be Senya talking in his sleep woke me. I almost cut his head off before I realized what it was. I’m starting to think maybe I shouldn’t sleep with a murasame in my hands anymore. Better safe than sorry, I suppose.

Leaving the guard quarters silently I notice that Maki, the night watch, is also sleeping. He boasts more about being a great warrior than the greenest rookie, yet here he is, sleeping. Probably thinks as the others do; the enemy is all but defeated, they will not attack. That is fool talk. My last count had three enemy ninja unaccounted for within the Nuriko Mountains, and they may have more garrisons I have not seen. It only took one to eliminate the Shogun and his entire honor guard. Thirty-five men slain. These fools don’t even care. None of them have even seen the enemy face to face. They fight the Nagaaki clan, from the north, allies of our enemy. I have seen the enemy. I have killed the enemy. When they come, they will come for me, and I will dance with them again.

Using a shuriken, I cut Maki’s belt without disturbing him. Lord Akobe will wake him in the morning. Maki will gather himself quickly to bow and lose his breeches. I hope I don’t give myself away by laughing too hard.

Leaving Maki behind I exit the guard barracks through the rear door and breathe in the crisp, salty air. I had never seen the ocean before this, in all my years. Part of me was actually glad to be transferred here, despite the stories I had heard. The scenery was beautiful, my old teacher told me, but the men here were lazy and the enemy had a major outpost under construction just beyond the mountains. He was right, except about the outpost. It wasn’t under construction; it was already built. I am the only person that I know of who has been there and escaped. That is why the enemy presses on with such force against us. They do not let anyone escape. They will return for me, despite what the others say. I know it.

The men here, even Lord Akobe, look at me strangely because of it. I have seen them, was captured by them, and lived to tell the tale. A woman doing this, when so many men could not. That is not the way it is supposed to be. They do not say it to me, but they think I should be dead. If no one else escapes, why did I? I tell them I was lucky, which is untrue. Luck had little to do with it. I am not one who dies easily.

Several times I have tried to train the men here, teach them the ways of my clan, the Shiori Dok, but they do not listen. Senya tries, but he does not truly understand. He is too rambunctious and undisciplined, too young. I think he is only trying to impress me, as so many here have tried. I was some kind of legend before I even arrived. People told me stories about myself when I got here, about many fantastic feats that no human could do but somehow I did. When I deny the rumors, it only breeds more. They follow me around because they think I have the gods’ luck. The enemy will not harm them with me around. I think the opposite. I know the enemy wants me back and they will go through anyone to get me. I have told Lord Akobe this; he dismisses it. I almost pity him. He is the Lord here, the enemy will make a point of having his head when they show.

“Kyoku? Is something wrong?” I recognize the voice and stop any outward reaction of being surprised. Turning, I see Senya rubbing his eyes with one hand and scratching his backside with the other. He doesn’t even have his sword belt on. My clansmen would be disgusted. Most would have drawn their sword by now and given Senya a token scar to remind him of his foolishness. I must be getting soft.

“I am waiting,” I say. Senya gives me that look that says he doesn’t believe. I have seen it many times and it no longer bothers me.

“Lord Akobe assured us that the demons will not return. All the southern clans have closed in on them. You should take this time to relax before your clan finds another war to send you to.” I try not laugh at him. He speaks to me as though I were one of the Craven, a coward who runs from war. My clan is the clan of war; our purpose is the dance of battle. I fear the boredom of Senya’s life more than any battle.

“All bodies are not accounted for. The enemy will return. They want me back.”

“Are you really so valuable?” he asks, mocking but in jest.

“You don’t understand. I didn’t understand until I saw them.”

“Then explain it, why don’t you?” he says, approaching me. I shake my head and look back at the ocean. Vibrant colors light the horizon as the sun slowly rises. I hope I get to see this again sometime. My people reserve little time for simple pleasures. The pleasure of war is usually enough, but sometimes I wish for more. Perhaps someday, if there is no war left for me to fight.

“Lord Akobe will be coming soon from Shido city. Make yourself presentable.” He hears the command in my voice and leaves quickly. Lord Akobe had warned me twice against ordering his soldiers. It is not my place, but he warns gently. He fears me. I could have this whole clan under my control if I wanted to, and he knows it. Lucky for him I have no use for them.

Turning my head, I notice a shift in the wind, bringing a new smell to my nose, something sour and old. Decayed. The smell the demons bring with them. They are not human, not anymore. And they are close by.

My hand twitches at my side, toward the exposed hilt in my scabbard, and a movement catches my eye from the barracks entrance. I parry left and catch a glimpse of the thing standing there, grinning at me from behind its blade. The eyes are dead and unmoving, one of them is off kilter, looking down and to the right. I recognize the gold and grey flecks of color throughout the dark iris. I see the same eyes reflected in my own blade, my eyes. The eyes of my brother. I did not think I would ever have to dance with him; he was my first teacher, but he is one of them now. This should be interesting.

He lunges at me in a hasty manner, quite unlike the brother I knew. He would never be so clumsy. Of course, in those days, he was still alive. This thing has been dead a long while. Its flesh is a strange shade of pale purple, and I can see a hole in its chest. My brother was killed by the enemy and brought back by them, to fight at their side. That is why their numbers do not decrease, the dead are added to their ranks.

I sidestep his feeble attack easily, lashing out with my own sword and removing his left arm. It doesn’t seem to phase him. He simply turns on me and attacks again. Whatever evil force drives him, it aims to take my life at any cost. I cannot let that happen. This time, I remove his head.

Distantly, I hear the alarm gong. It must have been sounding for some time now, I just did not notice. The enemy must have attacked the rest of the base as well. They may have been entirely comprised of my clansmen. If they were, I suspect I am the only survivor. Even if the rest were as sluggish as my brother, these men cannot compete.

I enter the barracks quickly, running through the corridors looking for a fight. I hear distant sounds of battle, but none close. The gong has stopped. I approach the guard quarters and slow. A figure in the hall stops me. It is Maki, lying against the wall. He never even unleashed his blade from the look of him. Blood flows from the wound in his chest.

The door to the quarters is open. Bodies are scattered about, piled on top of one another, some with weapons drawn, but not many. Senya lies next to the open door, his throat slit, a surprised look on his face. There is dark blood on his sword blade. At least he wounded his attackers.

A sound draws my attention and I turn. One of the devils stands at the end of the hall behind me, one of my clansmen. He is not as rotted as my brother had been. I take a step forward and the devil is joined by another, then another. Soon the hall is full of them, at least fifty, all smiling their dead smiles, glassy eyes focused solely on me. I was their target from the beginning. None of them utters as word as they approach me. They will not have me without a fight.

I run to meet them, my sword dances its own dance as I avoid the attacking blades, slicing and piercing dead flesh. The first dozen fall quickly, but not quick enough. More devils come, forcing me back. I cannot fight them all, I know, but I will not submit.

Suddenly my father is before me, the greatest warrior I have ever known, his katana blade flashing like lightning as he attacks. I dishonor myself by letting out a cry of despair as he strips the murasame from my grip, ending my fight. His dead mouth pulls back into a wider smile as I lower my head, ready for the death blow. It does not come.

Dead hands take hold of my arms and legs. A rope is tied about me, binding me tightly and a soiled cloth is tied over my eyes. More cold hands take hold of me and lift me up. I struggle briefly, then something crunches into my skull and all goes black.

“Wake up, my dear. You are needed.” My head is pounding and I am not sure if the voice I hear is real or not. Whichever it is, neither is good. “Wake or you will die now.” The voice is not one I recognize, it is female, and she speaks strangely. Her accent suggests one who is used to the old tongue. I lift my head and open my eyes, light and shadow swarms before me in dizzying patterns. I take a deep breath and my eyes manage to adjust.

I do not recognize my surroundings. It is a dungeon, that much is obvious. Cold stone, dripping water, torch light. Shackles line the walls, I am fixed in a pair at the wrists, hanging nearly a foot from the ground. I have been stripped of my clothes. I see the one who addresses me standing not far off. She is young and has very pale skin, contrasting her night black hair and eyes. Two of the devils stand with her, one was my father, the other was Senya. The woman smiles at me.

“Glad to see you listen well. My name is Ky-Lin. I believe I know you, but not your name,” she says, tilting her head curiously.

“Kyoku, of the Shiori Dok,” I say. The woman’s full lips part into an ecstatic smile and she claps her hands like a child.

“How glorious! You are the very last of your kind you know. The Shiori Dok put up a fight the likes of which I have never seen, they were magnificent. And you, Kyoku, the last of your kind, the only to have ever escaped my stronghold, you are the most magnificent of all. You will be my prize, the greatest of my warriors, if only you will join my army.” Her smile becomes curious again, asking the question. I consider spitting in her face, but decide against it.

“You have killed my clan and my family. I have failed in my duty. I am a warrior no longer, least of all for you. It is better to die,” I say. There is no doubt in my mind that my wish will be granted. Ky-Lin smiles at me and takes the dagger from Senya’s blood stained belt. A thought occurs to me. I have no choices. Her army is the dead. When she kills me, I will surely be stripped of my soul, and my will. I will be one of them. An abomination. I begin screaming long before the dagger slices my throat. With my dying breath I curse her and she laughs. Slowly, everything becomes black again.

The road is quiet. The woods are quiet. Everyone must die. A twig snaps, a guard at the barracks lifts his head and walks around the side of Lord Akobe’s carriage. He sees nothing. There is a swish, a flash of metal, his head falls to the dirt road. Everyone must die.

Two more guards are dead before an alarm is sounded, then the others come. They all die. Everyone must die. The last is Lord Akobe. In my mind, I see his face. I have known him before. I will kill him. The murasame in my hand moves swiftly. He gasps something, a word perhaps. “Kyo” it sounded like. It does not matter. His head hits a wall, then my foot as I walk by. Outside to the silence, to the road. There are others waiting for me. I lead them. I point with my sword, towards the human city. Shido. Everyone must die.

#shorts shortstory horror action #horror #shorts

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fadingcoast · 6 years ago

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Death Of The Lie || Chapter 17: Asgard

Summary: Odin and his daughter Hela are the perfect conquerors of the universe. The nine realms fall one after the other into their clutch. After Odin takes a second wife and has a son with her, he doesn’t need Hela anymore. Hela abandons her father and ends up marrying Laufey, a sworn enemy of the Aesir people. Not long after, she becomes pregnant with Laufey’s child. Odin cannot let that son be born, but against all odds, the boy survives. Odin is forced to bring him back to Asgard to be raised as his own until he could make further use of him. The half-Jotun-half-Aesir boy grows up to look and act a lot like his mother, which disturbs Odin, and makes him treat the boy horribly. Odin’s lies are deep and complex, but one day the boy will find out the truth about everything he is.

PAIRING: None RATING: Teen

MASTERLIST

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Chapter 17: Asgard

Dearest Sigyn:

It is with great woe that I inform you that I have cut my hair. I imagine Gwyn will not be pleased with this, but I could never care for it as she did. And believe me, I tried. If I know you at all, right now you’re rolling your eyes wondering if my father had anything to do with my decision. I believe you know the answer to that, as he has been pestering me from day one to do this. I didn’t want to give in just yet, but even with the help of my magic, all I made of it was a mess. In this weather, though, it's probably for the best. It was getting a bit hot to maintain.

I have been in Asgard for so little time, but it already feels like decades. I want nothing more than to go back to Alfheim. To see you, to immerse in the Alfar world again. I miss the rivers, the lakes, the mountains… I imagine the berry fields must be ready for harvesting. It makes me sad not to be there to taste the first fruits. The castle is too quiet at night without a river nearby and at times I find it difficult to sleep. I had to conjure a fake one in my balcony just to get some rest.

Thor has become nearly unbearable in my absence. I had noticed his mannerisms becoming closer to Odin’s in the past, but without any opposing influence my brother has gone full brute. He talks often of the realms he wishes to keep under tighter control once he is king. Mother ensures that his rants don't go too far, but he treats her word more as a suggestion than wisdom. I fear he may one day become a victim of his own hubris, and the kingdom with him. I've not a clue what Lady Sif still sees in him but they are unbearably inseparable.

The news of our engagement is still quiet, as mother has not tested the waters of my father's approval yet. Odin appears to be somewhat relieved to have me back where he can see me and has kept his scorn to a reasonable level so long as I keep my nose clean. I suspect if he is not told soon he will either marry me off to a daughter of some random Aesir nobility and have us live in the castle or have me groomed to be the King's right hand when Thor takes the throne. It is with no exaggeration that I admit I would rather fling myself off the rainbow bridge than to do either, so I think I will have to tell him before long.

I hope to hear from you soon, as I know you are finishing up your last term at the Sanctum and I know you're terribly busy.

-L

Dear Loki:

I don't have to tell you how beautiful the land looks right now, how thick the air is with the sweet fragrance of ripened fruits and honeysuckle. This land is in your blood, and you would sooner forget to breathe than to not think about it. I hardly get to see it these days but I like to go to your old room and sit in the bay window to study. At times I will fall asleep there and I will awake with a start, thinking it's you tapping on my shoulder, but it's Gwyn. Soon I will take my final exams, just a few years out. I don't know how you did it.

You don’t want to know what Gwyn’s reaction was when I broke the news about your hair to her. You’d think the world was ending. Honestly, as good as it looked, I’m surprised you didn’t do it sooner, it must have been so heavy.

I hope the selection of fruits and ale I sent with this letter are to your liking, and that they didn’t end up on your head. I think I will need a sketch or drawing of your room to get familiar with it and pinpoint my teleporting spells, as I am not as familiar with it as you are with my chambers. This will make our exchanges happen a lot faster and no one else can read what we write. It will also help me practice my teleportation techniques.

Maybe one day before long I can visit Asgard, with the King and Queen's permission, of course, after our engagement is known.

-S

The steady exchange of letters Loki kept with Sigyn was full of funny anecdotes and jokes, and it kept him from losing his mind most days. Lucky for both of them, they had perfected a tracking system so they could teleport letters, portraits and presents back and forth, bypassing the regular system. It helped time pass and it kept Loki’s sense of humor intact on days where all he wanted was to escape royal life.

It wasn’t odd for Loki to wake up to a room full of blackberry infused ale, or daffodils in blossom, and some other seasonal foods. It was quite the feat to explain to Frigga why he had so many turnips in his room before he sent them all to the kitchens. But the Queen knew to keep his secret and would help her son ensure gifts from Sigyn ended up where they needed to go, though Loki did prefer to keep the ale for himself.

The letters were also full of less pleasant things. Loki’s nightmares had made a comeback, and they were getting worse. Visions of him in an icy tomb, surrounded by bright blue cold light, where the most frequent. Other times he would be surrounded by darkness, no wind, no sound, lifeless. Sometimes he could even swear there was something calling to him in the dark, but he would jolt awake, covered in frost, before he could figure it out. He spent most of his free time in the library, trying to find an explanation, but most of what he found presented more questions than answers and made no sense.

Loki could not tell this to anyone. Thor wouldn’t care, Frigga wouldn’t be able to help him and Odin would probably berate him for not controlling his powers. As if I could control them while asleep. Sigyn was the only person who he knew could trust with this, and though she was too far away to really help him, she still sent him medicinal herbs, sleeping potions (dreamless sleep was better than no sleep, after all) and comfort food he would not find in Asgard. In addition, she would also send copies of manuscripts she thought could help him.

During the day, Loki fell into a routine, keeping his mind busy to keep out of his own head and fill the endless hours of the day. He was obliged to attend certain diplomatic meetings but only as an observer and only to learn more about running the kingdom. Forced to wear his ceremonial uniform - horns and all - Loki loathed them, but was still far more observant of visiting ambassadors than he let on. It was him who picked up on it each time one would try to lie or trick the Allfather, and after some time Odin wanted to use his skill at every meeting. It was a thankless job, but Loki knew he had to make himself indispensable to gain the Allfather’s trust, so he performed his duty with a sort of reluctant sense of responsibility. For the first time in almost his entire life, Odin stopped insulting him at every opportunity, and replaced his mistrust with indifference. Loki was no longer followed by Odin’s blasted ravens, or by the Einherjar, everywhere he went.

Even while being used, Loki found a measure of freedom in Asgard at last.

My Queen:

It’s been decades and I still can’t get used to being here.

I’ve been made very aware in more than one occasion that this is a world built for warriors, and I am not one of them. Thor has tried to include me in his tiny clique, but he insists on mocking my powers, unless he can make use of them.

“Some do battle, while others do tricks,” he says - but he’s perfectly happy with my “tricks” saving him, and then taking all the credit when an incursion goes well. In any case, is not like Odin would congratulate me, as he dislikes me using my magic when I‘m supposed to be using weapons and considers sorcery to be the cheater’s way. Nothing ever satisfies his impossible standards.

I must admit that I’ve used magic for more than saving my brother’s behind, though.

Fandral has gotten no more amenable, and wastes no opportunity to make crude remarks about my magic and my shapeshifting. This of course only happens whenever Thor isn’t around, the spineless worm. But I finally got my revenge.

In a recent trip, I suggested I used my female form, as the ruler of said realm was a fierce woman who wanted nothing to do with negotiations as long as Odin or Thor were conducting them. I thought, very accurately, she would be more lenient if a woman was the representative. To everyone’s surprise, except mine, it worked, and now interrealm relations are advancing.

That evening, in the revels of it, Fandral once again tried to make advances on me. This time, I was prepared. I had been working on a little something for some time, and it was the perfect opportunity to lace his drink with a very special concoction.

He spent the next two full days as a pig! His tiny brain managed to keep him safe from the slaughterhouse. Once the effect wore off, he tried to blame me for it, but he had no proof. Besides, it’s not the first time he has gone missing for a couple of days. Most believe his excuses just got out of hand.

I must say, potion making isn’t fun and it will probably never be my strong point, but the results are very satisfactory. Hopefully the goateed swine has learned at least a small lesson about underestimating me.

I believe the time has almost come for my father to be informed of our engagement, though if and when it happens it won’t likely be made public knowledge until after Thor’s coronation, which is at least another half century or more away. But it will stop Odin from discussing my possible marital prospects involving Aesir nobility for the foreseeable future. I will tell you as soon as I am able to do it.

-L

PS: Please, tell Gwyn her blackberry pie was delicious, and that without her here to tell me not to eat it in one sitting, I ate it in one sitting.

My King:

Gwyn is both very pleased and very cross with your message. I could still hear her muttering about your sweet tooth and lack of self control well into dinner time.

I kind of want to feel sorry for Fandral, or at least tell you to make productive use of what you’ve learned. But I’m not going to, cause I am imagining a pig with a blond goatee, and I wish you could have kept some register of it.

As for our engagement, I have no better news than you.

My cousin, Princess Frikka of Vanaheim, has announced her betrothal and upcoming wedding. Every and all announcements will be on hold until after she weds and the new future king is presented. Her fiancé comes from one of the oldest houses on the realm and has been around the royal family probably since he was born. Surprisingly enough, they chose each other, which leads me to believe he must have some integrity and intelligence in him. Frikka is smart and strong willed, she wouldn’t suffer a fool.

I am guessing that for a ceremony of this magnitude and significance, Asgard will be sending Thor in Odin’s behalf. If you want me to, I can brew something to turn him into a goat.

-S

Sigyn:

In an unsuspected turn of events, my father has decided I’m the one to represent Asgard in Princess Frikka’s upcoming wedding. Thor, as usual, wants nothing to do with diplomatic visits or ceremonial commitments, and my father is once again incapable of putting his foot down with him.

I do regret that you will miss the chance to turn Thor into a goat. But there’s always more ceremonies and weddings, including our own, where you can try that out.

I look forward to see you in Vanaheim next fortnight. The prospect of you being there and seeing you again is the only thing that will keep me sane.

-L

The week leading to the event, Loki found himself excited by the thought of reuniting with Sigyn, and wanted to do something special for her. For this, he enlisted his mother’s help, as he had no clue of where to get the gift he had in mind.

Loki had discussed their unofficial engagement with his mother several times in length, and while he knew the Queen had indeed informed Odin, it was rather odd that the Allfather hadn’t talked to him about it in person.

Loki wanted to question this decision, maybe even talk to his father himself. Odin had always been very adamant in controlling everything in his life. Why all of a sudden did he seem to not care about it? Or maybe he was looking for a reason to forbid Loki from marrying Sigyn, thus stopping him from leaving Asgard for good? Loki wouldn’t put it past Odin to do such a thing. It wasn’t until much later that the reason behind Odin’s silence became clearer.

As much as they tried to hide it, Odin’s dwindling health was a well-known secret. The whispers and rumors had not gone unnoticed by Loki. This only meant the palace would be making arrangements sooner than planned to proclaim Thor as King. Loki couldn’t help but feel bitter about it: as usual, he was being pushed aside for his brother to shine.

Yet, he had no time to dwell on it. Diplomatic trips weren’t something Asgard took lightly, least of all now, when such an important ceremony was involved. Loki had to get a proper outfit, take time to study and relearn some of Vanaheim ceremonial etiquette, and find Sigyn her gift.

When the day came, Loki found himself rather excited by the prospect of spending a few days away from Asgard. He told himself the butterflies in his stomach were from the responsibility invested on him to represent Asgard and the Nine Realms. They had nothing to do with seeing Sigyn again, of course not. Still, there was a little skip in his step when he and Frigga made way to the Bifrost chamber.

As in all the realms, Vanaheim had a special landing site for the Bifrost. It was very similar to the Alfheim one, except the stones that made the circle were blue. A wide stone road led out to the capitol, while other smaller dirt pathways led out to several shrines. Loki knew these were teleporting spots, portals that connected Vanaheim to other realms besides Asgard. Loki made way to the white Alfheim shrine to wait for Sigyn. His fingers traced the white stone, covered in familiar leaf patterns, and smiled to himself. His nostalgia was interrupted by a bright silver flash coming from the inside of the shrine.

Loki straightened himself and stood by the door and waited for Sigyn to come out. And what a vision she was. Her linen and silk dress was several shades of green, with golden leaves embroidered on the fabric that shimmered in the midday sun, making it look as if the light was going through the foliage of a tree. The golden and white sash on her waist was modeled after branches, and matched the design of the tiara on her head. Blue, red and yellow jewels embedded in the metal resembled little flowers.

Rendered temporarily speechless, Loki shook his head. In an attempt to get rid of the awkward atmosphere, he bowed theatrically, taking Sigyn’s hand and kissing it.

“Your majesty.” Loki chuckled.

“Your highness.” Sigyn bowed as well, trying to stifle a laugh. “What’s with the antlers?”

“Har-har,” Loki said, unamused. “Ceremonial regalia. It’s supposed to be intimidating, I think. I plan to get rid of it as soon as I’m allowed.” Sigyn’s face was red, and her lips pressed in a tight line as she tried not to giggle. “Laugh now, get it out of your system unless you want to enter the Realm looking like a strawberry,” he teased, rolling his eyes.

“I’m sorry!!” She broke down in hysterics, holding Loki’s arm to steady herself. “I’m sorry…” Finally she took a deep breath. “I’m fine now.” Loki stared blankly at her, and Sigyn broke down laughing again, unsuccessfully apologizing.

Loki shook his head a took a deep breath, smiling despite of himself while he waited for Sigyn to stop. She had tears in her eyes when the fit finally subsided.

“Okay, I am fine now. We can go.” Sigyn smiled at him.

He smiled back offering his arm for her to grab it. “You look beautiful.”

Loki and Sigyn were led into a carriage that transported them to the castle. Conversation was light and amenable, and Loki felt like he was floating on air sitting next to Sigyn again, becoming aware every few minutes that she had grown in his absence and blushing at this observation. Sigyn gently placed her hand over his as they approached the castle, openly gaping at the sight of the carved crystal palace.

Clearly Asgard doesn’t have the monopoly on gaudy castles, Loki mused, both amused and impressed at the Vanir capitol. The entire entryway was a giant blue crystal that thrust toward the sky like a beacon, its edges perfect and straight. At the tip of the crystal was a smaller but no less impressive crystal that Loki assumed was a massive diamond, by the way it refracted the natural sunlight into sparkling rainbows everywhere the light touched. Even the stone pathway leading to the castle glittered with every shift of the light.

“Look at it,” Sigyn breathed, her free hand resting on her chest in awe. “I haven’t been here since I was a child and the beauty of the castle still arrests me.”

The carriage stopped in front of the castle door and a servant assisted both of them out onto the front steps, bowing low and gesturing widely toward the open door to invite them in. Loki offered his arm to Sigyn and she gracefully placed her hand on his forearm, giving it a reassuring stroke with her thumb.

Already the front part of the castle was full to capacity with guests from other realms. Loki recognized a few members of nobility from Alfheim and Asgard and cringed inwardly. He was expected to play the part of the royal representative but he wasn’t exactly looking forward to it. Politely greeting people along the way as they bowed their heads to him, Loki led Sigyn through the throng and past the crystal door frame and heavy white amethyst doors leading into the throne room.

Loki had learned in his studies that Asgard was unique in its showcasing of ceremonial events, so he knew that no one would see the newlyweds until after their vows, since the Vanir preferred privacy for their weddings. The party would take place later. There were only a few people in the throne room aside from himself and Sigyn, and he could hear muffled voices in an adjoining room, where he assumed the happy couple were tying the knot right then.

The throne room itself was just as grand as the rest of the castle they had seen so far, nearly every surface all gleaming crystal and perfect edges. It was almost disorienting to the eye, the stark contrast between the sharp lines of the room and the organic curves of the people in it. The ceiling sloped up into a point and the blue crystal caused the room to be bathed in blue light that made one feel as though the room was underwater. Perched atop a white crystal dais, the throne itself was carved from several slabs of gold-laced white quartz. It was the only cushioned surface in the room, as the King likely spent a fair amount of time sitting on it. While beautiful, it was a kind of cold beauty that Loki found rather abrasive compared to the lush and green lands he had grown up in.

Sigyn’s hand squeezed Loki’s arm and he turned to see her practically jumping up and down with excitement after seeing someone. She looked up at Loki with a smile before bounding off to greet a woman Loki recognized as her mother’s sister. He had met her a few times during his stay in Alfheim and knew she and Sigyn had a close bond.

Excited chatter began to filter from the ceremonial chambers and Loki supposed it was nearly time for the couple to make their entrance. As if on cue, more and more guests came from the foyer to mingle, and Loki suddenly felt as though the air was getting thicker by the second. Whether it was the dense group of people, or the flickering blue light that filled the room as the sun raised higher in the sky and which reminded him of his dreams, he could feel a chill brewing in his chest and he had to get out of there quickly before he made a scene.

As subtly as he could, Loki slipped through the crowd as the new Vanir Prince and Princess emerged amidst loud cheering from the ceremonial chambers, followed by the King and Queen and a High Priestess. His fingertips tingled with cold and he gasped for breath when he finally found a second door that led out to a balcony overlooking the castle gardens. Quietly he approached the railing and closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of the river below. Surely no one would notice him gone, even with the conspicuous absence of the ridiculous horns he had to wear.

Loki leaned on the railing and willed his breathing to slow and tried to ignore the clamor of voices insides. His eyes flew open in surprise when he felt a hand grasping his. Standing there patiently, her hair and skirt blowing gently in the breeze, was Sigyn, her soft brown eyes full of concern. She stroked his hand with her thumb and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Are you okay?” Sigyn meant it sincerely, and took his other hand in hers. “Want me to go back in with you?”

Loki considered this for a moment, and shook his head. “Not yet,” he murmured. “Just stay here with me.”

Sigyn returned his smile and leaned against his shoulder, still holding his hands. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, and Loki could sense his tension evaporating more as he moved his hands to pull her closer. Warmed by the sun, Sigyn’s hair smelled like roses, and the scent reminded him of all the time they spent together in Alfheim, the bond they shared, and the future he hoped to share with her.

“I nearly forgot,” Loki mumbled, freeing one hand to dig in his leather pockets. “I have something for you.” Finally he found it, and pulled it out for Sigyn to see. A quiet gasp was all Sigyn could muster when she saw the thin but elegant gold ring, the design made of intricate knots interwoven with branches and leaves.

“I promised you a real engagement ring, remember?”

Sigyn nodded wordlessly, her mouth still hanging open, eyes misting over. She held up her left hand and Loki was touched to see the original ring he had given her, a gold band from one of his braids that was covered in scuffs and scratches. He replaced it with the new ring, which fit perfectly and would last longer, and Sigyn grinned wide and stood up on her toes to press her lips to his. The sudden kiss surprised Loki but he held her like that for a few extra seconds before she took a step back to admire the ring.

Her smile vanished, however, when she looked past Loki toward the door.

“Erik.”

<< Chapter 16 – Chapter 18 >>

@igotloki @xalgaliareptx @christy-winchester @silverhart93 @claiming-loyalty-to-loki @honeybournehippy @unseelie1963 @mischievousbellerina @manager-of-mischief @angryowlet @thelittlestlittlecutiepie

#Loki #loki fanfiction #loki helason #loki laufeyson #Odin's A+ parenting #DOTL #Death Of The Lie

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yourmajestythequeenn · 6 years ago

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Confessions Chapter 4

This is a long one: 2k+

Warnings: Swearing, torture

Pairings: Scorpius x Rose, Albus x OC

Confessions Masterlist

Em’s Masterlist

Chapter 4 ~ There’s Always a Cost

"Rose," Al reads off the slip of paper, grinning deviously.

Fucking Hell…

Anger pulses through my veins.

"Liar," I snarl at him, rising out of my seat. I stalk towards him, snatching the bit of paper from his rough hands, I read in neat letters Rose Weasley.

Shit, I was hoping he was just trying to piss me off.

"Well," I snap crisply. "I’m not going."

I feel a strange tingling sensation creep down my spine. I expect the feeling to pass, but it doesn’t. Weird…

"You have to," Al calmly states, as if he thinks he can control me.

Then suddenly, the sensation spreads down my arms and legs, I can feel it in my fingertips and my toes. With every breath…every heartbeat, the tingling grows stronger, becoming more intense, slowly changing from mere tingling to extreme discomfort.

This must be a leftover sensation from the extreme torture Al put me through at practice today.

"I absolutely do not!" I feebly sit on the couch next to Dominique, but instead of feeling better I feel worse.

Something strange going on…something magical?

"Yes, you do," he insists, his eyebrow slightly raised as if he expects something to happen.

The discomfort pulses through my arms, legs, and torso. A knot grows in my stomach getting bigger, like a puddle of water slowly flooding my body with its presence.

"NO!" I stand, my anger overcoming my weakness. "I most certainly do not! I don’t want a part in your insane plan Al!" The discomfort morphs into pain, rapidly taking over my body. I draw in a long shaky breath.

"Rose…are you okay?" Dom has sensed something's off. She places her hand on my shoulder.

The realization hits me like a ton of spell books. His devious smile and raised eyebrows…Al’s behind it…whatever ‘it’ is.

"Al…" I manage to squeak out. I double over, crumpling to my knees, my arms cradle my stomach my head wedged between my knees.

"What the hell did you do Potter?!" Dom screams, most likely at Al. I shut my eyes trying to block out the world. The pain. Everything.

The pain is extreme, taking over my entire body. My lungs burn with every ragged breath I take, my muscles shake as though every one of them has been stuck into an electrical socket.

"Albus Severus Potter!" screams Dom.

"I…uhhh…sorry?" Al stutters out "I didn’t mean…it wasn’t supposed to-"

"Well whatever you did fix it!"

"I can’t."

"Al what have you done?" A new feminine voice comes in, whom I can only assume is Roxy.

"ROSE!" Assuming he’s finally grasped the seriousness of his idiocy, he grabs me, pulling me close to his warm, strong body. "Rosie, you must go along with my plan. Then it will go away, all the pain, gone. You must believe that you will go." He speaks forcefully, his breath warm on my ear.

Through the blinding pain my brain only processes the words, "go along with my plan," and "pain gone."

I will do anything to make the crippling pain stop.

I want to go to the Slytherin practice…Wow did I just think that?

I want…I want to win…

And to win I have to go…

I force my tense muscles to relax, the pain slipping further away with every thought.

"Rosie…please…" Al’s voice echoes through my scrambled thoughts.

Wanting the pain to go away is one thing; wanting to go to a Slytherin practice is on the opposite side of the universe kind of thing.

But I tried…

I really really did…

As if a giant black hole opened up in my chest, the crippling sensation slowly pulled back from my limbs and my head, leaving my limbs numb and my heart racing, I relax into Al’s arms.

"Al…" Dom’s voice interrupts the silence. "Is it the goblet…the goblet?"

I couldn't hear him answer.

"Albus! How could you be so fucking stupid! She could have died!" Dom’s panicked voice shrieks. "What were you bloody thinking you fucking prick?"

"Do-" Al’s voice is interrupted by more of Dom’s ranting.

"You are the most insensitive arse I have ever met!"

My body feels raw and exhausted. I’m positioned on Al’s lap. My eyes are still squeezed shut…each breath wracking my burning lungs.

"Did you have any idea-" Dom's voice is now interrupted by Al's anger filled one.

"No! I had no idea! You know the story just as much as I do… it must have been the wrong one. Why would you think I would do something like that? She’s my best friend!"

At this point my brain has started to function somewhat normally, but I have no idea what my cousins are talking about. My eyes flutter open…

At my stirring the room once again goes silent.

"Rosie?" Al asks tentatively.

"Yeah… " I croak out of my raw throat.

It seems as if everyone in the room has let out a sigh of relief.

"Rosie," Dom drops to her knees, embracing me as if she hasn’t seen me in years.

As I struggle to sit up, shapes and colors blur together. My stomach churns and my ears feel as though they were filled with cotton balls.

This simple movement is too much for me. I drop my head back in Al’s lap. Darkness encroaches on my vision. Once again, I’m pulled out of the real world, this time into a sea of darkness.

Blurred images swim before my vision as my eyes adjust to the weak morning light. Above me the crest of Gryffndor hangs, the magically animated lion silently roars, shaking his mane and batting the air.

Slowly I turn onto my stomach, immediately realizing that this isn’t my bed. The sheets have golden snitches zipping around the bedclothes at…where the hell am I?

"So, the dead finally awakens." I recognize Al’s voice immediately.

"Where am I?" I groggily question, rubbing my eyes.

"My bed."

"What!" I push myself up, looking at my surroundings…dirty clothes everywhere, unmade beds, and posters of Quidditch teams and half naked witches cover the walls. This is definitely not my dorm.

"Yeah, after you passed out we brought you to the Hospital Wing, we all had to tell McGonagall and Poppy what happened." my eyes grew wide with the fear of everyone knowing about the embarrassing torture I had endured. "Poppy gave you a potion and there was nothing else we could do so I took you up here." He grins at my uncomfortable situation.

"Why did I- ohh…" My last conscious memories flood my brain. Al’s to blame for everything.

"Bastard," I snarl at him, flipping back the covers.

"Rose I-"

"Shut up! Everything that’s happened is your fault!"

"Rose I’m so-"

"Don’t you sorry me, you two-faced nob-headed wanger! I can’t bloody believe you, do you have any bloody idea what I went through? You fucking tosspot! Your mum will hear about this! Mark my words, Albus Potter!” I scream at him, tossing back the covers, kneeling on the bed to get eye to eye with him.

His face is fills with fear at the mention of his mother, but it is all too quickly replaced by anger.

"Rose you have no right, no right, to bring my mother into this!"

"Oh really, I almost died! You are so fucking irresponsible!”

“It was a fucking accident Rose!”

"You git!"

"Nonce!"

"Fucking tosser!"

"Bloody wench!"

"Wanger!"

"Slag!"

"Prick!"

"Minger!"

"Arsehole!"

"What in Merlin’s pants is going on in here?" Shouts a voice from the door.

I look up and see Arthur Birchgrove in all his perfect glory staring over his half-moon glasses.

"Piss off Arthur!" I hiss.

"I was only down in the common room reading this book called The Controdictory-"

"No one cares Birchgrove." Al speaks up.

"Well the Gryffindor handbook states that there shall be no females in the male dormitories," I step forward, but Arthur holds up his hand. "And there shall be no profanities spoken about or to anyone in this house," his gaze is locked on me, as I sit on Al’s rumpled bedclothes.

"Arthur…" Al mumbles obviously annoyed.

"This is your last warning, if I catch you here again. You will be reported," he raises a bushy eyebrow and disappears.

I start to turn back to Al, but another figure fills the doorway. I whip back around to see James, his slim frame leaning against the door.

"Can I help you?" I huff.

"Just heard some yelling and thought I would investigate," he smirks the trademark Potter smirk, "Turns out its just you two, what’s wrong, Red?" he rolls my stupid nickname over his tongue, drawing out the e sound.

"Why don’t you ask your brother," I gesture to Al. James snickers, pushing his wavy black hair out of his eyes.

"James Sirius Potter! What is so funny?" I demand, my lips pressed together menacingly.

"Nothing…Hermione," he drops his eyes to avoid my gaze…well more like death glare. James thinks when I get angry I start to act like my mother, but I am nothing like my mother. Even though we’re blood related, I take after my Weasley side not the nerdy Granger one.

"First off, I think Al owes me an explanation on why I almost died last night." I turn from one brother to the other, crossing my arms over my chest and waiting for an answer.

"Yes…I do," Al says slowly as if he’s making sure to choose his words wisely.

"So, get on with it," I snap impatiently.

"That goblet I picked names from last night is no ordinary goblet…" I wait patiently sitting cross legged on his bed, forcing my face to remain as emotionless as possible. As his tale ends, I am bursting with fury, I cannot even look at that dumbarse anymore. I spring off Al’s bed, and rush out of the room, nearly knocking James to the ground in the process.

I walk into my dorm fuming with anger,

My dorm mates look up from their various morning rituals in worry.

Our dorm consists of; Dom, Juliet Woods -whose brother is our chaser, and who Al set on fire last year by accident- Lucy Weasley, Lavinia Scamander -she’s the Scamander twins’ sister- then there’s Roxy…she is a seventh year, but the girls in her dorm are hags so she unofficially bunks with us. But at the moment Roxy is MIA…probably off snogging some bloke.

"Where were you last night Rosie?" pipes Juliet, she is a ball of energy that never runs out, ever.

"Oh she wa-" starts Dom, looking up from blowing her freshly painted nails dry.

"I fell asleep in the common room, then Al took me up to his room" I interrupt Dom, not wanting the whole school to know that I was tortured by a magic goblet that Godric Gryffindor created. I give Dom my 'shut up now' face; she returns her 'okay, okay sorry' expression.

"You slept in Al’s BED," Lavinia squeals excitedly, thankfully too preoccupied to notice my and Dom’s silent conversing.

"Uhh…yeah," I force my voice to be even, "I really didn’t have a choice."

I sift through my trunk pulling on the first t-shirt and sweatpants I find. Hey, it’s a Saturday.

"He is soooooo cute," Lavinia comments spritzing her face with rose water.

"Al Potter" sighs Juliet dreamily, she’s had a terrible crush on Al since first year. But for appearances she acts as if she cannot stand him, I really don’t understand women in love.

"Ewww," cringes Lucy. "You do realize we’re related to him." She plops down on her bed with a pile of books in her hands. I am not sure how she got into Gryffindor with her enormous brains.

"So, what exactly are we doing today?" I question my friends. It was a weekend after all, no classes.

"I have to do a spa day," Dom says, she begins spackling her face with a thick orange mask and her feet are already soaking in her bewitched foot spa.

"Research," mumbles Lucy under her mountain of books.

"I’m not really sure, probably going down to breakfast then to the library," says Juliet shrugging her shoulders.

"What for? Looks like Lucy already cleaned it out," Dom giggles from under her paste face.

I hear Lucy grunt in retaliation from her bed.

"Lorcan and Lysander are forcing me to go bloody Nargal hunting with them," groans Lavinia miserably. As much as she loves her brothers, they defiantly inherited their mother’s quirks.

I have four choices:

Spa day with Dom, not on your life. I’d probably end up looking like a deranged poodle.

Nargal hunting… this shouldn’t even be on my sane list of options.

Homework…not on a weekend, no thank you.

Leaving breakfast with Juliet.

"I’ll go with you down to breakfast Jules," I confirm, she squeals with excitement and rushes out the door ahead of me, bounding down the stars two at a time,

I had just piled my plate with food, grinning at the feast that awaits me. I pick up my fork, about to dig in when I feel a tap on my shoulder.

Who dared to interrupt my breakfast?

Albus Potter, that’s who.

"What?" I snap at him, impatient to get back to my highly anticipated meal.

"You are coming with me!" Al says a bit too brightly.

"Not on your life Potter" I hiss angrily.

Al looks around to make sure no one is in earshot, then leans close to my ear. "You really have no choice. Unless you want to relive last night, we need to plan for the plan."

"But I’m starving, I’m mad at you, and its Saturday, Slytherin practice isn’t utill Monday," I point out.

"Too bad, we need to get started." Al grabs my hand, pulling me off the bench, leaving my breakfast and Juliet behind.

Sorry about the length, I didn’t want to break it up.

Thank you again for reading. Please let me know if you like how the series is progressing, a note, comment, or reblog.

Cannot wait to post the next chapter,

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pens-swords-stuff · 6 years ago

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Character Creation tag [Callisto]

@logophilism tagged me for this forever ago, thank you so much!!

I’m going to do Callisto for this!

1) What was the first element of your OC that you remember considering (name, appearance, backstory, etc.?)

Callisto is one of the main characters for Morsmordre, a Harry Potter fanfiction. Me and McH (@decantae) both decided that for the four main characters, we wanted one person from each house — Callisto was the result of me making the Slytherin character.

So I guess… Personality and ideology would be the very first thing I came up with for Callisto, since I knew she had to be a Slytherin. I also knew that I wanted her to be an aristocrat in the very beginning.

2) Did you design them with any other characters/OCs from their universe in mind?

Kinda, sorta, possibly, maybe. Morsmordre was inspired by a simple romantic writing prompt between a Hufflepuff and Slytherin — and it turned into this angsty universe with several spinoffs somehow — so I knew that she was going to be romantically involved with McH’s Hufflepuff character, and I believe Casimir was finished before Callisto.

So I knew that Callisto would be Casimir’s partner, and I’m certain that it had some sort of influence in her creation, but I don’t think it had any overt, explicit impact.

3) How did you choose their name?

I had a lot of trouble coming up with a suitably pureblood name without it being too out there or too plain. I was legitimately unable to come up with a name on my own, so I went and looked at space-inspired names since the Black family was known for naming their children after stars. Callisto was the one I liked the best in the list.

I wanted her to be one of those Pureblooded Slytherins that were rich, had power and influence, etc. So I looked to the Sacred Twenty-Eight to have her be from a family that was legitimately the purest of the purebloods. I wanted her to be from a canon, notable family that didn’t have too many characters and such attached to it in the original series — so no Weasley, Malfoy, etc — and eventually it was between Rowle and Greengrass. The name and family exist, but there wasn’t a whole lot of information attached to those names. Between the two, I went with Rowle because I liked it better, and if I wanted to transfer Callisto to a different setting, Greengrass would be a bit suspect of a surname.

4) In developing their backstory, what elements of the world they live in played the most influential parts?

When Callisto was first conceptualized, there were two key things I had to keep in mind: 1) She was a pureblood that was part of an old, powerful family that supported the Dark Lord; that in our setting, Voldemort and the Death Eaters are winning and anti-muggleborn sentiment is at an all time high. 2) Callisto is a blood traitor.

It takes a very specific type of personality to make that work, and the manipulative and cautious aspect of her personality came out of necessity to accommodate those two things. She had to be clever and sneaky enough to survive being in an environment like that, while still maintaining an inner, hidden kindness that would let her sympathize with a group of people her family discriminates against.

And thus, the foundations of her personality and backstory was laid.

5) Is there any significance behind their hair colour?

Callisto has black hair because her face claim (Lily Collins) does, but I was also deliberately trying to find someone with dark hair because I see a lot of blonde Slytherin OCs.

6) Is there any significance behind their eye colour?

Nope!

7) Is there any significance behind their height?

Not really. She just seemed like she would be average-ish.

8) What (if anything) do you relate to within their character/story?

I really relate to how she internalizes everything. Callisto doesn’t tell anyone when something is wrong, and she bottles up all of her thoughts and feelings — she tends to shut down and get bitter when it becomes too much. I also internalize everything without having an outlet.

9) Are they based off of you, in some way?

Nope! I’ve said this before I’m sure, but I make sure that I don’t put myself into my characters — I’m sure there are some similarities somewhere, but if I do it consciously I can’t make a good non-self-insert character. I’m sure that some people can pull that off, but I personally cannot.

10) Did you know what the OC’s sexuality would be at the time of their creation?

Yes; Callisto is pansexual because all of my characters default to bi/pan.

11) What have you found to be most difficult about creating art for your OC (any form of art: Writing, drawing, edits, etc.)?

Her face claim, Lily Collins has a lot of video clips, gifs, images, but they don’t necessarily look like Callisto. It’s difficult attempting to find things that could work for Callisto photoshopping or video-editing.

12) How far past the canon events that take place in their world have you extended their story, if at all?

So the current draft (it’s like a second draft… except we never finished the first. We just decided to rewrite it anyway) is at the very beginning of the Morsmordre story. Similar to Harry Potter, we’re going to follow the lives of the main characters as they go through school. It starts in 4th year, then I believe that Morsmordre will end a couple years after their 7th, when they finally achieve their goals (even then, that’s suspect and not set in stone).

Me and my writing partner have planned far beyond that, including headcanons for their children, what they’re going to be up to after the events of Morsmordre, possible sequels, relationships, etc. I don’t even know if it’s going to happen, but I actually have an elaborate plot that I want her to go through post-Morsmordre…. it’ll be fun 8) maybe I’ll start writing it…

13) If you had to narrow it down to 2 things that you MUST keep in mind while working with your OC, what would those things be?

1) Callisto isn’t inherently cold — she became cold because people expected her to be, and it was how she coped with all of the pressure she got from her parents and others in upper pureblood society. There’s warmth underneath all of that ice that ultimately influences most of her thoughts and actions, but it’s subtle, hidden, and often forgotten.

2) She is always evaluating a situation, and figuring out how to best achieve her goal — whatever it may be. I often have to remind herself that she has an ulterior motive in whatever she does because she’s cunning and manipulative.

14) What is something about your OC that can make you laugh?

She’s extremely competitive and petty — this leads to funny, harebrained revenge schemes that is either executed perfectly, or it goes wildly, hilariously wrong. All done with a complete deadpan, of course.

15) What is something about your OC can make you cry?

Some characters bring angst and suffering onto themselves — Callisto is not one of those characters. Most of the pain she goes through is due to circumstance and factors out of her control, so there’s a sense of helplessness to her story because no matter how much she tries to be good, no matter how much she tries to fix things, it never seems to matter. She got dealt a bad hand, and all she can do is try to overcome that.

16) Is there some element you regret adding to your OC or their story?

If you asked me a while ago, I think that I would’ve said I hated her manipulativeness since I found it almost impossible to write without it becoming an informed trait. I do think that I’ve gotten a bit better at it, so I don’t think I regret it anymore — it’s a challenge.

Also she is bitingly snarky and I for some reason seem to forget that a lot?? I might regret that a little. But I’m committed.

17) What is the most recent thing you’ve discovered about your OC?

At first, I thought that she was going to quietly fit in with the people around her, to stop drawing attention to herself. Nope, it turns out that she’s a rebellious little shit, and often toes the line of fitting in and standing out in a bad way. Callisto definitely pushes the limit of what she can get away with.

18) What is your favourite fact about your OC?

She is in a constant state of mild irritation, and she vents out that frustration in various petty ways.

Tagging @yeraswifey @kajsaschubelerwrites @souliloquyyy @decantae @visionofwriters @imani-writes @altheathewriter @silentwriterprompts @zeesqueere for this, feel free to participate or ignore!

Anyone that wants to do this, you’re tagged too! Feel free to say that I tagged you in the post~

#tag games #creative writing #amwriting #OC #OCs #callisto rowle #morsmordre #my ocs #my wips #undine's fanfiction #hp fanfiction

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